Sticks and Stones: The Recovery
by countrygirls86
Summary: This is continued from Sticks And Stones...so, I definately say read that one first. : Enjoy!
1. Prologe

A/N: I know this probably isn't the best prologue, but I hope you enjoy it all the same. I'm sorry it took so long for me to write, too. I really didn't mean for it to be this long of a wait. Uh, this starts the Friday of the week the last story ended on. I hope that made sense. lol.. It also just shows important things that happened over the two months I'm jumping ahead in this story. Ok, I'll let ya get to readin' it now. LOL...sorry. ENJOY! :)

Reba awoke Friday morning, nervous and excited. Today was the day Dolly Majors would annouce her two choices. Reba darted into the bathroom, rushing through her morning routine. Once downstairs, she quickly fixed breakfast for the rest of the family before making herself a cup of coffee.

"Mornin', Mom. Today's the big day, right?" Cheyenne asked as she, Elizabeth, Henry, and Van walked into the kitchen. Elizabeth and Henry raced to the kitchen table, waiting for their favorite cereal. Cheyenne placed a bowl in front of each of them as Van set her plate in front of her seat. Cheyenne turned around to see her mother. Reba smiled at her nervously.

"I'm not gonna get it, Cheyenne. There's no need to call this my _big day._ Is the rest of the family up, yet?" Reba pointed to the stairs, waving her hand in a nevermind way as Kyra, Jake, and Barbra Jean stomped downstairs. Kyra and Jake were taking turns, trying to convince Barbra Jean of something rediculous. Reba tuned them out as she piled three more plates with food. She found her thoughts going back and forth. She knew she wouldn't get the job offer. Then again, she couldn't help but be nervous and excited. She felt like slapping herself for not being able to control her feelings. She jumped as Brock's hand moved in front of her eyes. Reba blinked her eyes quickly before smiling at him.

"Have you sat down any this morning?" Brock asked as he piled eggs onto his plate. He looked to his left, watching as Reba sipped her coffee. She shook her head, turning to make him a cup of coffee. Brock set his plate on the counter, and took the cup and coffee pot from Reba's hands. He gently guided her to the kitchen table where Van gently pushed her into the chair. Brock walked back to the counter picking up both her coffee and the plate he had before. He passed them to Van, who set them in front of her.

"Eat." Both Van and Brock said as they glared at her. Reba took a deep breath, attempting to stand up. She never could eat such a big meal when she was nervous. Van placed his hands on her shoulders, holding her in the chair. Brock sat next to her, a plate and cup in his hands.

"Reba, it's not good to be nervous or excited on an empty stomach. Eat at least the toast... please." Reba sighed as she picked up the slice of golden brown toast covered in a light coating of melted butter. Van waited for her to take a bite before he returned to his own breakfast. For the first time in almost a year, they all had breakfast together as a family. Everyone laughed and ate without a care of the time. Five minutes before Brock, Reba, Barbra Jean, and Van had to leave for work Kyra pointed out the time. She, herself, wouldn't have noticed if her crazy band member wouldn't have texted her. She left after putting her dishes in the sink, taking all the kids to school. The adults made their last rounds around the house before rushing out the door to their respected vehicles. Reba had managed to return to work the day she had planned. She had cleared up Stan's client list in under an hour, held three open houses, and even sold a house on her first day back. Reba had a slow day yesterday, but in the end she had sold another house, yet again. At the end of the day yesterday, her boss had told her to continue working hard. She could still have a chance of being chosen. Brock had dropped her off at work, brought her lunch, and picked her up from work. Today was the first day of doing everything on her own. Reba pulled into her office's parking lot. She took a very excited deep breath, turning her car off. She felt like Cheyenne had when she was nominated for prom queen. She knew she wouldn't win, but the want to win was driving her at the moment. She would take whatever she was offered and live with it. Reba walked into her office, smiling as she noticed the time. She was ten minutes early like she had been all week. Reba rushed to her desk, getting to work immediately. She had an hour before Dolly and Mr. Jones would make the annoucement.

"I've made my decision, Tom." Dolly stood opposite Mr. Jones at his desk. She was ready to tell his workers the good and bad news, depending on who you were. She had hoped everyone would come in early, but so far only a few had. She was impressed with how fast Reba caught up after being gone for so long, and the only excuse she gave was a family emergency had come up. If it hadn't of been for Brock sneaking it to her, Dolly would have never known the truth.

"Alright, Dolly, we'll tell them once everyone gets here. Do you mind telling me who they will be?" Mr. Jones motioned for her to sit across from him. Dolly quickly made her way to the chair, and leaned towards the desk. Mr. Jones followed her lead, and together they discussed why and why not Dolly could have the people she chose.

The hour had came and gone, and now every worker stood in a half circle around Dolly Majors and Thomas Daniel Jones. Reba stood between her best work friends. They gave each other a quick nervous glance before tuning into what Dolly was saying.

"Good morning, everyone. I'm glad to see you're all here. After plenty of discussion between Mr. Jones and myself, I have decided whom I will be takin' with me. There is one thing I have changed. I will not be taking two people with me. There will be only one." Dolly paused to let the news sink in for the workers. They all went through the nervous and shocked noises and conversations. Reba looked to the floor. This would not work in her favor. She already knew it wouldn't be her. She accepted it for now, and returned her stare to Dolly and her boss. Reba stood tall and unaffected in others eyes, but on the inside she was angry and sad. Jeremy had managed to ruin everything. She could have gotten this offer from Dolly hands down. If he hadn't been the horrible jerk that he was, Dolly would have been calling out her name right now, but instead the brunette with shining green eyes won. Leann Clarks clasped her hands over her mouth, complete shock taking over the new employee. Reba lightly pushed her friend towards Dolly, whispering for her to shake her hand. Leann rushed to Dolly as the crowd went back to work. Reba took a deep breath, watching as the young bouncy woman smiled and talked with both business owners. Reba smiled for the girl's quick success, and slowly made her way back to her own desk. This is what she had to live with, and that's what she would do. Reba sat down, reaching for her phone. She called the first client on her list, looking through her planner for a free day to hold their open house.

**the following Wednesday....**

Reba's therpy appointment was in forty-five minutes. Brock watched Reba count her fingers and take deep breaths as they sat in his truck. They could wait until she was ready. He knew she was trying to convince herself to get out of the truck. Brock looked out the front window, letting his hands fall off the steering wheel to his lap.

"Reba?" Reba raised a hand, stopping Brock.

"I'm goin', Brock. Just give me a minute." Brock nodded his head, turning his truck all the way off. He counted to ten in his head. As soon as he got to ten, Reba was getting out. He sighed with relief before following her. She walked fast, leaving the truck far behind her. She couldn't wait for Brock. It could give her just enough time to change her mind. Reba pulled the door opened, stepping inside instantly. She bent over, resting her hands on her knees. She waited for Brock to catch up as she caught her breath. He entered the building a few minutes later.

"Is everything ok?" Brock asked as Reba slapped away his hands. She stood straight and walked with him through the halls.

"I'm fine. Let's just get this over with." Reba and Brock walked to the front desk of a warm little waiting room. Reba looked around the empty room. She could see plants in the corners, and soft leather couches placed in random spots around the room. The walls were a faded yellow. Two doors faced each other on opposite walls. One was the door Brock and Reba had just entered, and the other she assumed was the door that led to the therapist's office. Reba took a deep breath, taking the papers from the secretary. This wasn't a dream. She needed to do this. Reba took a quick glance at Brock before starting to fill out the forms.

A few minutes later, Reba was sitting across from the therapist. The last Reba knew, Brock was in the waiting room reading a golf magazine. He was right down the short hallway and through the door if she needed him. That wasn't too far of a distance. Besides that, she had been working the past few days, and during that time she was miles away from her family. She could do this. Reba was interrupted from her thoughts by the therapist sitting in her chair.

"What brings you in today, Reba?" Dr. Wendy Greenhall spoke to Reba in a warm and strong voice. She held a welcoming look across her face, her bright green eyes encouraging Reba to tell her. Reba looked down to her hands which were resting in her lap. She couldn't believe she was about to do this, but as if on cue her head lifted and her eyes locked with the therapist.

"I'm not really sure where to start. Uh...Something traumatic happened to me a while back. Since then I've had these reaccuring nightmares and flashbacks." Reba felt her legs start to bounce with nerves and fear as she allowed herself for the first time to fully think about that afternoon. She swallowed hard, knowing her lips were trembling and drying up. She licked them quickly. "I'm scared. He's disappeared and I don't know where he is." Dr. Greenhall nodded her head, noises of her listening filling the short silence in the room. When Reba didn't say anything else, she slipped her black rimmed glasses from her slender nose, setting them on her dark oak desk.

"You don't know where _he_ is? I'm assuming that he is the person that caused you harm." Reba let out a quick breath, nodding her head yes. She looked behind Dr. Greenhall, seeing the degrees framed against the light blue walls.

"He was my boyfriend, and I was living with him. He...uh..." Reba paused, trying to stay under control. She didn't want to start crying right off the bat. That would be too embarassing after all she had been through. She was strong, wasn't she? She could talk about this, couldn't she? Dr. Greenhall patiently waited for Reba to continue. "He...h-he just changed on me over night, but then again...when I look back, I see there were signs. I blame myself for not being strong enough to see it then." Reba stopped again, blinking away the treatening tears. She failed miserably, her cheeks instantly becoming an ocean of salty warm tears. She had to get it all out now, or she felt she never would. Reba took a deep breath, closing her eyes for a quick second. "He had..been a-abusive to me, and he...uh...eventually..." Reba could feel her whole body shaking with every emotion there was. She no longer could hold back, act strong for everyone, or even keep her mind from racing a mile a minute. "Eventually he-he raped me." Reba let out a breath of relief, glad to have it out but scared to have gone over the line. She was still afraid Jeremy was watching her every move, waiting for her to slip up. He could be stalking her kids, enjoying ways he could torture her by having them. She snapped back to the moment in time she was sitting in. The therapist was talking again.

"I can see that you've really been having a difficult time, and you coming in here today was very brave. I know it was hard for you to tell me about this." Dr. Greenhall takes a moment to give Reba the time she needed. Once she was sure there had been enough time, she continued. "I can help you with this, Reba." Dr. Greenhall passed a box of tissues to Reba, who silently thanked her. She quickly wiped her cheeks, taking a deep breath.

"That's what I came for. I want to put this behind me." Reba grabbed another tissue, calming down a bit. She cleared her throat, listening intently to the lady across the desk.

"I believe what we need to do today is..get a little more information from you, and then I want to refer you to our doctor. What he'll do is prescribe you something to help you sleep and calm your nerves. How do you feel about that?" Reba thought for a second. This hadn't been as horrible as she had thought.

"You mean about takin' the medication?" Dr. Greenhall nodded her head. Reba's face changed from fear and confusion to determination and strength. "I'll do whatever it takes." Dr. Greenhall nodded her head, sitting back in her chair a little more. She continued to discuss the information pertaining to the medication. It could take a while before they found the right one for her. After two hours of talking and waiting, Brock and Reba were climbing back into his truck. Brock pushed the key into the ignition, and turned to Reba, giving her a small friendly smile. Reba returned his smile with a smaller one of her own. She couldn't wait to get home. She was completely exhausted.

"So, how'd it go?" Brock pulled the truck out of the parking space, glad that traffic had been over with for at least half an hour. The ride home would be quick, and he could tell they both wanted to be home.

"Well, I'll be getting drugs." Reba chuckled shortly to herself before taking a deep sigh. Brock was glad to see a hint of her sense of humor coming back. He wanted her laugh again. He knew she loved laughing more than anything else in the world. It would be good for her. "Seriously, they gave me a prescription, and I have another appointment in about five days." Reba glanced at him as he pulled onto the main street. She couldn't help but notice the pride in his eyes when he looked at her. Was he proud she was doing this, or that he had managed to get close to her again? Was he planning something? Reba changed her thoughts when he patted her hand, just like he had done many times during their marriage. He was proud of her. Reba slowly moved her head to look out her window, a content smile slipping across her lips. Things would be better eventually.

**One month later...**

Brock and Reba were watching television in the living room, tuning out Barbra Jean's recent beanie baby story. The television changed to a commercial break just as Van ran down the stairs, completely hidden by bags, pillows, and Cheyenne's purse. Reba, Brock, and Barbra Jean turned to the kitchen doorway as Van ran into the room.

"Ms. H! Cheyenne's having the baby! Get off your butt and help!...PLEASE!" Van darted out the door, dropping things as he did. Reba giggled softly as Jake immediately ran after him, picking up anything he dropped.

"MOM!" Kyra and Cheyenne's voices echoed through the house. Reba jumped to her feet, running through the living room, into the kitchen, and up the stairs. She couldn't believe it had already been nine months since Cheyenne had told her she was pregnant. Reba met her daughters at the top of the stairs, a smile placed on her lips. Reba quickly took her place on the other side of Cheyenne, helping her daughters down the stairs. They walked as fast as they could to the car, where the rest of the family were waiting. Barbra Jean, Brock, Elizabeth, Henry, and Jake had already left for the hospital. It was a quick ten minute ride. When the second car had arrived to the hospital, Brock had already gotten Cheyenne a wheelchair. Van, Cheyenne, and two nurses rushed back to a free room, leaving the Harts in the lobby. Reba stood next to Brock, watching with tears in her eyes as her daughter disappeared. Brock placed a hand on her upper arm, leading her towards the waiting room.

"Ms. H! What are you doin'? Cheyenne needs you!" Van yanked Reba away from Brock, dragging her through the double doors. Brock chuckled at the look on her face before joining the rest of the family in the waiting room. It would be one long wait.

Ten hours and forty-five mintues later Reba walked into the waiting room, tears and a smile on her face. She cupped her mouth when the Hart family turned to look at her. She bounced just a tiny bit before announcing the great news.

"It's a boy! They have a little boy." Brock ran to Reba, spinning her in circles as he hugged her. Reba laughed with him, squealing when he started to spin. Brock set her back on her feet, making sure she was balanced before dropping his arms from her waist.

"We have a grandson, Reba! I have a grandson!" Brock shot his arms in the air before pulling her into a quick hug with Reba laughing the entire time. Brock and Reba turned to the rest of the family, quickly pulling the first person they saw into a big hug.

"When can we see him?" Kyra asked as she broke free from her mother's hug. Reba tried to answer her daughter, but Barbra Jean had pulled her into a death hug first. Reba gently pushed away from her, but Barbra Jean wouldn't let go. Reba gave Brock one of her killer looks, making him pry Barbra Jean away. Reba straightened out her clothes before clearing her throat.

"Well, ya'll can go see him now if you want. I've been holding him for the past twenty minutes." Reba smiled again, bouncing one more time. She grabbed Kyra's hand, and ran back to her grandson. Kyra stumbled the first few steps, but quickly caught up to her mother's pace. The rest of the family followed shortly behind them, moving at a more normal walk.

"Isn't he cute!?" Reba picked up the little blue bundle, turning so everyone could see him. "Bryan Enroll Montgomery." Reba took a step closer to Brock, pressing her body to his. Brock carefully pulled the little boy from Reba's arms, smiling down at him. He was sleeping soundly, seeming to ignore the squeals and little touches. Brock carried the baby across the room, showing the family one by one. Van slowly took his son from Brock, walking back to Cheyenne's side. She tiredly held her arms out, wanting to hold her son for just a few more minutes before she fell asleep. Reba watched, from the corner, as her family gathered around the bed. How on Earth could she think these people would leave her or even stop loving her? Everyone was an important part of the family, and without just one person everything would fall apart. Reba smiled as Van stopped next to her.

"What ya thinkin', Ms. H?" Van placed his hands inside his pants' pockets, watching as Barbra Jean made a 'ha-ha' face at Kyra, who claimed her famous smirk once again. Reba's smile grew a little before it disappeared. She glanced at Van.

"Oh, nothing. It's not that important." Van glanced at her, giving her a small smile. He patted her shoulder before pulling her to him for a hug. He squeezed just enough to show how much he cared for and loved her. Van smiled when she returned it with an even bigger squeeze. "You finally have that boy you've always wanted." Reba pulled away from Van, a joking smile on her face. Van stood tall, pushed his chest out, and pulled his pants up a little.

"Yeah, I think it's time to break out the cigars." Van relaxed when Reba laughed, smacking him lightly on the chest. She pushed him towards Cheyenne. "You better get back over there. Enjoy the little time with Cheyenne before she spends the next couple of hours sleeping." Van nodded his head, walking away with a quick 'I love you' over his shoulder. Reba stayed in the corner, listening and watching as her family enjoyed themselves. It didn't take very long for her family to realize she wasn't amongst them. All at once they started to look around the room, finding her in the same spot. Barbra Jean was the first to venture from Cheyenne's bed. She reached for Reba's wrist, pulling her to the group. Reba followed nervously, not sure why they wouldn't leave her alone. She shook her head as her grandson came into view.

"Mom? What are you doin' way over there?" Cheyenne asked as she looked from her mother to her baby. She played with his little hand, smiling at him. Reba took a deep breath, enjoying the sight before her. Cheyenne looked back up to her mother, still waiting for an answer.

"Uh...I figured everyone wanted to see Byran and you. I've been by your side for hours now." Reba stopped talking at the look on Cheyenne's face. She knew where her mother was going with this. Why, she wonder, would her mother think she didn't want her by her side now? Cheyenne used her free hand to search for Reba's hand. When she found it, she pulled it to her heart, gripping it tightly. Reba could feel the tears brimming her eyes.

"Mom, I'm always gonna want you beside me. I need you to be right here...just like this. Just like you always have been, and I know you always will be. I love you way too much to have you standing in the corner on such a wonderful day. As a matter of fact, I never want you in the corner." Cheyenne kissed her mother's hand. She wished she could pull her into a hug, but with her baby still in her arms and with as tired as she was, she didn't want to chance it. Reba bent down, sensing her daughter wish. Cheyenne pressed her head closer to Reba's, wanting to show her mother just how much she was loved. "Mom, you know what I was thinkin'...." Cheyenne waited for Reba to stand back up before continuing. "You should give this little fella the proper Hart welcomin'." Reba gave Cheyenne a confused stare before taking a glance at the rest of the family. They all smiled big at her, nodding their heads yes.

"Go ahead, Reba. Sing to him." Brock started the encouragements, helping Reba realize what they were talking about.

"Yeah, Mom, you sang it to Kyra when she was born..." Cheyenne followed her father's lead, glancing at Kyra quickly.

"And Jake..." Kyra added without hesitation. Jake caught on fast as he listened to his sisters.

"And Elizabeth...It wouldn't be fair to little Bryan if you didn't." Barbra Jean opened her mouth, and everyone waited for something inappropriate to come out.

"I think I even caught you singing it once to Henry...when he wasn't feelin' well." Everyone's head jerked to look at Reba, who blushed at Barbra Jean's comment. She didn't know anyone was there. It was the only time Brock and Barbra Jean needed her to watch Henry. Of course she hadn't minded it, but to know they knew she sang to him was a little embarrassing. Reba cleared her throat, holding her hands out to Cheyenne. She gently took her grandson in her arms, walking over to a nearby chair. The rest of the family watched and waited patiently for her to start _Angel's __Lullaby._Reba smiled at Bryan as she looked into his eyes. They were already half way closed like he knew this would be the best part of his first day. Reba silently cleared her throat, taking a breath before singing her own lullaby.

**Two weeks later...**

Reba listened to her family laughing and talking downstairs. She couldn't seem to get out of bed. She was in one of those comfortable spots, and it kept her held to the matress, trapped by the blankets. She smiled as she cuddled more into the bed. No one knew she was awake yet, and the hushed sounds of their voices and constant shushes told her they were trying to let her sleep. Reba opened her eyes for the first time that morning, seeing the alarm clock read 9:30 am. Reba closed her eyes again, hoping to catch a little more sleep. She could hear the fast and hard raindrops hitting the roof of the house, causing her to pull the blankets closer to her. Today was such a good day to sleep. With the laughter and happy noise coming from her family, she'd just might sleep better on her own. No sleeping pills this time. Reba yawned before smiling again. The bed was so welcoming this morning. Reba's eyebrows scrunched together and she let out a small groan when she heard a knock on the door. Reba stayed silent, hoping whoever it was would think she was still asleep. The door slowly opened as the catious person entered, closing the door quietly behind them. Reba listened intently, trying to figure out who it was.

"Mom?" Kyra whispered, leaning sideways to see her mother's face from where she was standing at the end of the bed. She took a few steps forward, smiling softly at her mother's sleeping form. It was really pretty and funny at the same time. Kyra ventured the rest of the way to the head of the bed, sitting on the edge. She pulled the blankets away from Reba's face, and moved the strands of hair out of her face.

"How late you plan on sleeping in, huh? You're missing all the boardgames. Someone really needs to beat Dad. I think his ego's gettin' too big." Kyra watched as her mother's mouth betrayed her and formed a silly smile. Reba finally gave up and opened one eye, staring at Kyra. "Aww...Did I wake you up, Sleeping Beauty?" Reba rolled her eyes, still refusing to move from her comfortable position.

"Ha-ha. What do you want?" Kyra could sense the annoyance in her mother's voice, and had to smile at the familiar woman before her. Maybe this whole going to therapy thing was helping her. She appeared to be getting better, moving on at a slow but acceptable pace. Kyra moved the stubborn strand of hair, that had fallen back in Reba's face, away and tucked it behind her ear.

"I was just seeing if you were up. We really need someone to destroy Dad's ego. He's getting on our nerves." Kyra watched as Reba pulled the blankets closer to her chin. Reba closed her eyes, letting out a content sigh. She could stay here all day, or at least another ten minutes. Kyra slipped her shoes off, contemplating whether or not she wanted to climb into the bed next to her mother. It did look comfortable, and she had been wanting to talk like they used to do.

"I'm not moving for at least ten more minutes." Reba yawned again, feeling completely relaxed. Kyra and Reba both stayed silent as they listened to the cheers and moans from downstairs. "I guess your father won again. Too bad I'm really comfortable, or I'd have to teach him a lesson." Kyra shook her head, climbing over Reba's body to the large amount of free space. She wrapped one arm around her mother's waist, resting her head on her shoulder. Reba smiled, moving closer to Kyra.

"I've missed you, Mom. It's good to have you back." Kyra closed her eyes, taking in the warmth from her mother's body. No matter how many people she hugged, none of them even came close to the feeling of home her mother carried around with her. Reba smiled to herself, glad her improvement was starting to show. She really needed what Kyra had just said. Reba gave up her spot, rolling over to pull Kyra to her more. "You know...You never did go to my gig that Saturday." Kyra lifted her head from Reba's chest to see her mother's face. Reba had her eyes closed seeming to be mentally kicking herself for not going. She hadn't wanted to miss that, and it completely slipped her mind.

"I'm sorry, Honey. I really did want to go. I guess it just slipped my mind...How about I make it up to you this Saturday? You know...Pile in bed, eat tons of ice cream, and talk. Just like we used to before everything went crazy." Reba felt Kyra's head press against her chest once again as the young red head thought. It almost worried Reba. She had hope Kyra hadn't filled her schedule up too much. Reba let out the breath she was holding when Kyra pulled her closer.

"I wouldn't miss it for the world." She did have band practice that night, but she could bump it up to the morning. She didn't mind skipping out on sleeping in late when it came to her mother. This was, after all, what she had wanted. They both stayed silent for a few minutes, listening to baby Bryan crying, Brock boasting on another win, and Elizabeth singing in the next room. "I wouldn't worry about not coming, Mom. It gave us another chance to practice the song." Kyra felt Reba sitting up, and moved back a little. Once Reba was settled, Kyra cuddled up next to her. She wondered how much time she had before someone else came in. She didn't have all day, Kyra knew that much. This was her chance, if she wanted to talk.

"Oh, do you have a new song?" Reba's excitement drowned her words, giving Kyra the feeling of pride. Kyra pulled away from Reba, sitting Indian style across from her. She wanted to see her mother when the time came to slip her question out there.

"Well, it's a new song for us, but other's have recorded it before. I actually wanted to do this one for you. It's one of your favorites!" Kyra chuckled quietly to herself when her mother sat up, ready for the challenge of guessing which one it was. Reba crossed her legs, leaning slightly towards Kyra. The sparkle in her eyes, showing anyone she was determined.

"Ah, you're gonna make me guess, aren't you?" Reba clapped her hands together once after Kyra nodded her head yes. This was it. Her practice round before beating Brock and deflating that ego of his. "Ummm....Loretta Lynn?" Kyra shook her head no, wondering how many times it would take before she gave up. She couldn't wait much longer.

"Here's a hint, Mom. It's a song by Martina McBride." Kyra giggled at the angry look on Reba's face. Reba playfully smacked Kyra on the leg. She couldn't believe her daughter would just tell her like that. She normally let her guess at least three times before saying who it was. "Hey, I'll let you know when our next performance is and you can go to that one." Kyra paused, watching her mother look around the room. She must not have noticed the piles of her father's dirty clothes until now. She could see the real anger play on Reba's face, and shook her head. Her father was in trouble now.

"I'm tellin' you...Between your father and Van, I don't know how the house stays clean." Reba smiled a little as she threw her legs over the bed. She needed to get up anyway, and throwing dirty clothes at the orange manatee would be a great way to start her morning.

"Uh, Mom, can I ask you something?" Kyra turned slightly to watch her mother. Reba stopped picking up Brock's blue jeans as she turned to her daughter. She had a sly smile stretched on her lips before it disappeared.

"You just did." Reba waved her silly response away at the look on Kyra's face. She bent down, picking up the pair of sweat pants off the floor. "Go for it..." Reba stood back up, staring at Kyra. She waited patiently for her youngest daughter and middle child to form her question. It must have been a personal space invader because Kyra was stumbling over her words. Reba sighed, letting the pants fall from her hands. She re-joined Kyra on the bed, allowing her eyes to scan a small area of carpet.

"You wanna talk about what happened...don't you?" Reba risked a glance at Kyra, finding her nervously nodding her head. She had a feeling this was coming. It might have been the constant attempts to open this conversation from Kyra over the past few days, or the offers to take her to therapy. No wonder Kyra had volunteered so many times, in hopes she would want to talk afterwards. Reba had to admit; it was a pretty clever plan. "Well, what do you want..to know?" Reba scratched her fingernail against an imaginary stain, hoping to rid it from her jeans. She brushed the palm of her hand over her leg, taking a deep breath before looking over her shoulder to Kyra.

"Are you ready to talk to me?" Kyra hadn't wanted to push her mother into telling her, but when she was so close to completely understanding everything that had happened, she almost wanted to push. If it wasn't for the uncertainity on the face of the woman next to her, it would have been the very thing she'd have done. "I'll take whatever you feel comfortable with sharing. I just want to understand things more. I..."

"It's ok, Honey. I-You're just like me." Reba stopped, patting Kyra's knee. The eighteen year old wondered why her mother had quit talking, ending like she had. Did she think that sentence gave Kyra the comfort she needed? Did she think that statement spoke all the words Kyra already knew? At Reba's uncomfortable sigh, she realized her mother needed her to understand everything that came with her comment. She needed Kyra to agree with her, showing her there wasn't any disappointment. Kyra sighed, throwing her legs over the edge of the bed. She sat just like Reba, both staring at the wall across from them.

"Of course I am...I always have been." Reba slightly grinned, tearing at the hint of annoyance in the young woman's voice. She knew Kyra hated to be compared to someone else. She was always one to stand out and be different. It was one of the many things Reba loved about her daughter. "I guess you could always look at it like this...I'm finally wanting to talk to you." Kyra forced a smile, rolling her eyes at her lack of comic relief. She blew out a deep breath of air, looking away from the older red head.

"You know what...why don't we wait 'til Saturday to discuss this. Ya know, when we have ice cream and chocolate." Reba darted to her feet, trying with all her might to make it to the bedroom door before Kyra stopped her. It didn't take long for Kyra to call her name. Reba stopped two steps from the foot of the bed, staring at the bedroom door. She wished it would open, revealing someone's red cheeks demanding she'd beat their father. When no one came, she took it as a sign to talk to Kyra. She turned slowly, shrugging her shoulders at Kyra. "It was worth the shot?" Kyra patted the bed next to her, and Reba walked reluntantly back to her seat, quietly giving herself a pep talk.

"Please, Mom, talk to me. I want to know so I can help more." Reba lifted her eyes to meet Kyra's, tearing up at the care and love in her voice. Together they fished for answers and questions, clearing up any misunderstanding and mending any breaks in their relationship. By the time they had finished, Brock was trying to convince the family to another game of _Life_. Reba smiled evilly as she lifted her head from looking at the floor to her daughter's face. Kyra returned the same smile, leading her mother downstairs.

"Whooo...That's another one! I. AM. THE. BEST. Thank you, thank you, thank you." Brock bowed once again as the family let out their hundredth moan. Cheyenne jumped to her feet when she heard Bryan crying again. She was glad for the first time that he decided to wake up. She would take a little longer changing his diaper this time. She dropped her shoulders when Van beat her to him.

"I'll do it. You've already done so much, Honey. Besides that...you got to feed him." Van held Bryan close to his body as he started for the kitchen. He stopped dead in his tracks when Reba walked into the room.

"In all fairness, Van, Cheyenne is the only one that can feed him." Every person in the room cheered with happiness as they rushed to start a new game. It was time to put Brock in his place, and they couldn't wait to rub it in when Reba won. Brock placed a disgusted look on his face, and dropped his shoulders as he stared at Reba. She held her evil smile, staring back at him with just as much confidence.

"You!" Brock's face scrunched up more, and he pointed a finger at Reba. This was his warning of war if she even thought of playing. Reba's smile grew wider as she stepped closer to him, causing his finger to drop as she placed her face right in his.

"Oh, that's right. You're worst nightmare is BACK!" Reba turned away from Brock quickly, letting out a wicked laugh. She was in this war to win, and Brock knew he had no chance. He walked to his chair, no longer laughing at the losers surrounding him. For soon, he knew, he'd be joining them. "Oh, Brock..." Reba waited for him to meet her eyes before she continued. Brock watched the sparkle in her eyes grow as her words started again. He loved when she was like this, competetive and determined. He was doomed. "Don't be worried about joining the loser's side...they have cookies." The family laughed quietly at her joke, enjoying the fun evident on her face. This is what they realized they missed the most. Her jokes, laughter, sweet and loving accent, and most of all, her drive to be better than Brock. Kyra looked around the room, proud to have more information than the rest. For once, she knew something before the others. Her mother had trusted and opened up to her. Kyra snapped out of her thoughts, and focused on her parents' constant digs. This is what a family night should be like, not going to Fat Tony's for a quick bite to eat. Kyra caught Reba's eyes, and they both shared a small, understanding smile. They had found their way back to each other, and had vowed to never lose it again. For a mother and daughter should always have a special relationship.


	2. Chapter 1

The office was filled with busy workers. They sat behind desks, typing away at their computers or filling out paperwork. Clients came and left, signing the final papers for their new homes. Voices clashed together like waves in a terrible storm. Smiles and sighs of relief echoed across the building. She walked slowly, trying to remain out of the noise, but her heels were giving her away. She tugged lightly at the business jacket before stopping the man coming towards her.

"Hi, do you know where I could find Ms. Reba Hart?" A tall pale woman in her late thirties asked the first person she saw. This was the place her brother had told her to go to. She had arrived in Houston two weeks ago, finding herself lost to the city's wonder. She had always wanted to come back home, but her brother had convinced her France was better for her. The people were friendlier, he had said. It was after all where their mother was from, he had said. The woman shook herself from her thoughts, focusing on the short, balding man in front of her. She continued to stare at the jelly stain just above his shirt's pocket, glancing upwards to his eyes every few seconds.

"I believe she stepped out for lunch. She should be back any minute now. Would you like to wait for her? I can show you to her desk." Nathan Wicks sifted on his feet as he watched the brunette bite her lower lip. She moved her golden brown eyes catiously around the room before they landed back on his shirt. He was glad Mr. Jones had allowed him to make a quick trip home. This stain was bad for business. Nathan placed his hand over his pocket, pretending to search for a pen. His chubby hand hiding the dark purple spot.

"You wouldn't mind, would you?" Nathan shook his head, turning on his heels. He noticed the woman's voice was quiet but strong. She must not venture out into the real world much. Her skin and constant glances around the room were proof of that, or at least he liked to pretend they were. Must have been one of Stan's clients. Nathan stopped short of Reba's desk, noticing her cell phone and purse on top of the piles of paperwork near the corner. He turned slowly back to his follower, realizing she had already moved past him.

"Is this it?" The brunette didn't wait for him to nodd his head as she sat in the chair across from Reba's. Nathan nodded his head, hearing the laugh everyone in the office had learned only as Reba Hart's. He felt a poke at his chest before noticing her standing next to him.

"I guess that donut wasn't goin' down without a fight." She smiled softly at her co-worker, missing the body in the chair. He laughed sarcasticly, pointing to her desk. Reba's eyes widen before she rushed to her rolling chair. Nathan chuckled as she nearly rolled herself into the desk behind her.

"Uh, how may I help you?" Reba worked her way slowly back to where she needed to be. That had been the fifth time that morning. This chair was against her today. Once her seat was securely in place, Reba grabbed a pen from her drawer.

"Well, I was hoping to talk to you more so than buying a house." Reba's eyes lifted from the papers in her hands to the woman's face. This woman looked familar. Her eye shape and color, the texture of her hair, the thin eye brows, thick lips, broad shoulders. Reba swallowed the lump in her throat, praying her mind was playing tricks on her. She refused to look away as she set her pen down.

"Alright, what is it I can do?" She folded her hands together, resting them on her desk. She felt her pen roll into her fingers, and she glanced downwards. When her eyes returned to the woman across from her, the features had changed slightly. The color of her eyes were darker and more brown, her shoulders less broad than before.

"I should start off by telling you my name. It's Anna Sh- Benton. I just arrived here from France, and my br-family member said you were the best realtor. I'm real picky when it comes to "house shopping", if you know what I mean. Most of the realtors I've met with these past two weeks gave up on finding me a home. A girl can only stand a hotel for so long, do you know what I mean?" Anna swallowed her nerves. The redhead in front of her looked nothing of the person her brother had described her as. She had never actually met any of the girls he dated, but this time she had wanted to know what type of person...woman would leave him. He had asked her to come to Houston to run his business for a few days while he was gone, but she was not to go near Reba Hart. Why, she had wanted to ask but didn't. He never did answer her questions. She had learned long ago to listen to what he told her. Anna cleared her thoughts again, listening as this woman talked.

"Well, I don't know about being the best, but I don't give up..that's for sure. Do you know what you'd prefer in a house?" Reba gave her best smile, trying hard to keep down the nerves and fear she felt. Anna looked a lot like him, but at the same time, she didn't. Her nose was slender while Jeremy's was large. It fit his face, giving way to his high cheek bones. Something else they had in common, high cheek bones. Anna brought her hands forward, using her fingers to list the words she had practice. She had to know her stuff if she wanted to keep her cover of being picky. Reba quickly made a written list as Anna called them out. As Anna thought of her fourth prefence, Reba stole a glance at her hands. On the palm of her right hand was a scar traveling from the knuckle of her index finger to just before her wrist. Reba took a deep breath, looking away quickly. It was the same scar as Jeremy only the opposite hand. Reba blocked out her thoughts as she focused on her new client.

"Well, I see you know exactly what you're looking for. I already have a few houses in mind, if you would like to set up a time to see them." Reba reached for her planner, hoping she had a free day soon. She already knew exactly which house Anna Benton was looking for. It was almost like she had read about the house or seen it. She describe it to a key. Reba was glad Anna had came to her. This house was a tough one to sell, and it just happened to be on both her's and Van's list. She couldn't wait to sell it and to rub it in his face. Reba smiled to herself, focusing on Anna's words.

"Do you have any free time today? I'm pretty busy the rest of the week except Friday morning." Anna watched how carefully Reba flipped the pages of her planner. She noticed the neat, tiny handwriting in each box. This woman was organized, she was smart. Why didn't she like her brother? He was smart, organized, good looking, sweet, and really seemed to love her. What could this woman not see in her brother?

"Well, I'm full today. Wait, I might be able to let you take a quick glance of the house at three. I have another open house at three thirty, and it's on the other side of town. I wouldn't be able to show you but a quick glance. Would that be ok, or would you like to schedule something on Friday?" Reba gripped her pen, ready to write something down. She hoped Anna would fall in love with this house. Anna seemed to be lost in a scared daze as she thought the choice over. It almost reminded her of a deer caught in headlights. Reba snapped into reality when she saw her boss wave to her from across the room. She nodded her head to him, and he stepped back into his office.

"I think that should be fine. If not, can I call you to reschedule?" Anna sat up straighter, readying herself for the contact that would happen when she took the business card. She wanted to see if the woman's skin really felt like silk. After all that's what he had said it felt like. Reba dropped her pen almost instantly, reaching to her left for a business card. Anna watched as her hand glided towards her. It seemed to take forever before it stopped dead ahead of her. She hesitated before lifting her left hand, slipping her finger across the bigger portion of Reba's hand as she took the card. Anna let out the breath she hadn't realized she was holding, her skin had only felt a tad bit softer than her own. Reba must have used lotion more times a day than a normal woman. She took the second Reba was using to write in her planner to look the card over. It was a bright white with black lettering. Her picture was placed at the left. Her flipped hair and orange shirt seemed to give the card all the life it needed. She quickly tucked it into her pocket, moving her eyes around the room. People were sitting, standing, leaving, returning. There was so much going on that Anna wondered how it was such a quiet place.

"My cell and home phone numbers are written on the back, and my work number is the one at the bottom. I should have my cell phone with me at all times so feel free to call me on that one if you need to make changes. If it's after hours and I don't answer my cell phone then call my house." Reba gave her best smile once again. She glanced over Anna's right shoulder, seeing her boss looking her way once more. Reba placed her eyes back on Anna, smile still in place.

"And what do I do if you don't answer any of your phones? Leave a message?" Anna still had nothing on this lady. She was being completely professional, keeping her private life just that way. It was starting to bother her just a bit. How could her brother get any information he wanted in a mere second, but she was having to pull teeth?

"That would be fine. The only reason I can think of for me not to answer would be if I was out with my family." Reba closed the lid on her pen, casting a small smile towards her new client. Anna's attitude and behavior didn't point in the same direction as Jeremy. Maybe she had no connection to him after all. Reba felt a sense of relief wash over her as Anna stood to go. She quickly jumped to her feet, offering her hand. Anna didn't hesitate this time before grabbing the redhead's hand. Her brother had been right, her hand did have a feeling of silk. Anna turned halfway around before Reba stopped her. She lifted her head from looking at the floor to Reba's face.

"How do I get a hold of you...incase I have something come up?" Anna thought quickly. She hadn't realized Reba would need her number too, but then again, it should have been a given. Anna placed her hand in the air, waving it around a little as she spoke.

"I don't have a number at the moment. I just check out of the hotel. My friend and I ran into each other this morning, and she insisted I stay with her until I get moved into a house. I'm actually heading to buy a cell phone now. I'll just call you when I get it working...How does that sound?" Anna knew she had ramble off too much information, but she was nervous. This was her first time, in a long time, going behind his back. She had always listened to her brother. I have eyes everywhere, he had said. I'll know if you mess up, he had said. Anna felt a chill run down her spine. He had always creeped her out a tad bit.

"Oh, that'll be fine. I'll keep my cell with me." Reba smiled at the woman's retreating body. She had an elagence and grace in the way she walked. Anna Benton held her head high, and stopped to thank Nathan Wicks again as he entered the building. She even held the door open for someone before stepping out. Reba fell to her chair, thankful it didn't roll out from under her. She placed her forehead in her hand, collecting herself before going into her boss' office. Nathan high tailed it to Reba, a smart remark in mind. She did not have the last word in the donut discussion.

"Reba! I have something to say to you!" Nathan stopped at her desk, resting both his hands plams down on the top. He leaned onto them, catching her eyes as she looked up. Reba smiled at him, waiting for his response.

"You ok?" Nathan noticed the uneasiness in her smile, and forgot what he had came to tell her. He knew she had been through a tramic family emergency, and had had a few minor break downs. Reba was thrown off at his question. What did her being ok have to do with a fighting donut? She quickly nodded her head, poking at his pocket again.

"It's nice to see you won the war. Maybe you've finally scared them." Reba darted away from him, feeling as if she was calm enough to face her boss. Nathan turned to face her back, watching as she eased through the unusually large crowd of their office.

"The war has just begun! They know nothing of what is to come!" Nathan laughed his immatation of a proud and full of himself king. Reba chuckled to herself, noticing the glances of passing strangers. That was one of the many things she loved about Nathan. He always brought unwanted attention to himself. He had told her once that it didn't matter what others thought as long as his friends still loved him. She had to agree with him there. Reba took a deep breath, clearing her thoughts as she knocked on Mr. Jones' door. After a 'come in' passed through the door, she turned the knob.

"Ah, Ms. Hart, please sit down." Reba made her way to the mahagony chairs. She watched as he finished reading over the papers in his hands. He looked up, setting it to the side. He leaned back in his chair, relaxing against it.

"Can I ask you for an important, work favor...outside of work?" Reba nodded her head, hoping it was something she wouldn't mind doing. After all, he had asked her favors before. This was nothing knew. It was probably to see if she could pick his daughter up from school. She was in the same grade as Jake, and from what she remembered, the two were good friends.

Cheyenne bit her fingernail as she listened to Van. They had been sitting in the kitchen for the past two hours, trying to figure out the best way to tell her mother. Bryan had just fell back to sleep. Van continued to explain the best way to make a fried bolony sandwich. Cheyenne watched as he placed a plate in front of her, and sat down next to her with one of his own. "Van, I don't know if we should tell her. This is gonna be hard on her. She needs us to stay here." Cheyenne broke Van's concentration as he looked for the best spot to bite first. Van let out a frustrated sigh before setting his sandwich down. They really needed to come to a decision. "Then again...Bryan does need to be home. It'd be better for everyone if we went back home, right? Mom would understand, right?" Cheyenne raised an eyebrow, staring with uncertainty at Van. He scooted closer to Cheyenne, pulling her to him. She had been thinking herself out of their decision again. They had all been putting up with the small crowded living arrangements for his mother-in-law, but he didn't know how much more they could take. "Van, what if this hurts Mom? You know...what if this really causes her to go backwards? Then all this therpy she's been through would be a waste of time...I'd hate..." Van placed a finger on her mouth, making her stop.

"Honey, she'll understand. Your mother is a lot better now than when we first got here. I think she's expecting everyone to leave. It has been two months. I'm sure she's ready to go home, too. If it'll make you feel better...we'll talk to her about it." Cheyenne pulled away from Van, walking to the stairs. She didn't feel right about leaving, but she knew it was time. It was time for everyone.

"No, let's just tell her. It time we left." Cheyenne left her husband in the kitchen to finish off both sandwiches as she checked on their son. She knew Van was leaving to go back to work after he ate. She would miss him coming home for lunch when they moved back into their home.

"Oh, come on, Van! Answer your dang phone!" Reba paced outside a gray house with black shutters, vines climbing up the sides and porch. Both her and Van had tired to rid the house of the dark green vines, but they never could. The vines were stubborn. Her boss had asked her for a huge favor, and apparently his wife only trusted him with Reba. She couldn't have said no even if she wanted to. It didn't help that it was last minute either. This was why she needed Van to answer his phone. Reba checked her watch once again, wondering where Anna could possibly be at. They had agreed three o'clock today, and so far Anna was five minutes late.

"Ms. H...you gonna say anything?" Van's voice, loud but calm, brought her back to pacing. She took a deep breath, shivering as she glanced at the house. She didn't like the haunted house look to it. Reba turned her back to the old house, glancing down the road.

"Van, I need to talk to you. You have got to do me a huge favor!" Reba walked closer to her car, opening the door. She glanced over her shoulders, looking through the woods surrounding the creepy house. She shivered again, climbing into her car. "You know that big business party that Alex Mcgee throws every year?" Reba waited for his answer, hoping Anna Benton would arrive soon. She didn't like being far from town by herself like she was now. She considered leaving, but decided against it. This sale was important.

"Yeah, the one we never go to because we don't run our own business. What about it? Have you figured out a way we can sneak in?" Van asked with complete interest. This was a big deal, and he could see a lot of potiental clients sipping their champainge. Van smiled evily as he waited to hear how she managed to get them in.

"Well, no. Mr. Jones called me into his office about two hours ago. He wants to take me as his 'date'. Uh...let me re-phrase that. His wife only trusts him going with me, and apparently she has a very important conference in New York. She won't be able to go with him, and he had suggested he take one of his employees with him. She was completely against it unless I went with him. I even talked to her for an hour. How she knows who I am is far beyond my imagination, but that's besides the point. I just don't know if I can be ready by eight tonight. I have so much to do, and I don't think I'm ready to venture into something that big...with that many people..." Van listened as Reba rambled on some more. Maybe he was wrong this afternoon. Maybe now wouldn't be a good time for them to move out. She was calling to see what he thought about her going to a party. An event that could show off her talent, and therefore, further her career. He couldn't listen to her doubt herself anymore. It wasn't like the Ms. H he knew. If she had ever doubted herself, he had never seen it.

"Whoa, Ms. H. Calm down. You should go. It'll be a great opportunity for you, and afterwards we can stay up late, gossiping about all the snooty people you'll meet. Just think of all the clients you could get by going...clients who would want the biggest and bestest! We could even do each other's hair and make-up!" Van paused as she chuckled. She took a deep breath, waiting for him to continue. Reba was glad he was the one she decided to call. Anyone esle would have told her not to go if she didn't feel ready, but Van had always been willing to push her forward. "Oh, you could take off early and go shopping with Cheyenne and Bryan. I'm sure you and her would both love that. Hmm...So, what do ya say? Go shopping and partying..or work all day then come home and cook dinner?" Van pulled into a driveway, seeing his clients already standing at the door. He slowly turned his car off, pretending to gather his briefcase and papers. Reba thought for a second, hearing his car cut off. She knew he had to hang up soon so she picked the one she truly wanted.

"I say shopping." Reba looked over her shoulder as the gravel driveway was disturbed. She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. Anna had finally arrived, and Reba could sale the house. At least, she hoped she'd sale the house. "Well, I gotta go, Van. My client just got here. I'll see ya at home. Oh, can you pick up Jake and Caliee Jones after school for me?" She sighed with relief when he agreed. Once she hung up with Van, she placed her phone on the charger. She glanced in the rearview mirror for a quick make-up and hair check before making sure her brief case was in reach. She turned to open the door and jumped at the face on the other side of the window. Anna waited a few steps away from Reba's car door, smiling at the redhead. She was an awfully jumpy person. Anna waved sweetly at her as Reba climbed out of her car.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you." Reba smiled, quickly waving it off. She pointed towards the house, the key tightly pressed between her fingers and palm.

"Would you like to see the inside? We actually have more time than I thought. My other open house got canceled." Anna nodded her head, following Reba to the creaky front steps. She watched the woman easily make her way across the rough gravel. Her feet never twisting or sliding out from under her. She, herself, was having trouble walking on it. "I'm sorry about the vines. I've tried everything to get rid of them." Reba smiled over her shoulder as she unlocked the house, letting the door swing open. Anna hesitated before passing Reba into the house. So far, the house was perfect. She even loved the vines. They reminded her of her mother's garden house. She smiled as the house revealed more of itself. This was the one of her dreams. Her smile grew as she turned to Reba.

"Where do I sign?" Both women smiled big before walking back to Reba's car. Reba couldn't wait to see Van again. Now, all she had to do was find an enjoyable way to tell him. She smiled bigger, ideas flying in and out of her thoughts.

Barbra Jean and Cheyenne pulled into the parking lot of the Houston mall. They were chatting the entire way on which stores to shop in and in which order. They had a very big job ahead of them. Reba had called Barbra Jean telling her to pick Cheyenne up for a day of shopping. She needed a dress for an important business party, and they were to help her find one. Barbra Jean had even gotten a deal out of Reba. If she and Cheyenne were to help her then Reba couldn't complain of anything they picked out, and of course, Reba didn't go down without a few conditions of her own. The dress had to be her definition of classy, and the girls had to both agree it.

"You're serious? She's gonna let us pick everything out?" Cheyenne couldn't believe what Barbra Jean was telling her. That didn't sound like her mother, but then again she didn't want to complain. Her mother never did like it when she complained, and if she knew her mother, which she did, then it would be the perfect opportunity for her to take away this great day.

"Yes, your mother, my best friend, gave us the reins on this one." Barbra Jean pretended to ride a horse, moving her arms like she was holding the reins. Cheyenne laughed as she held the front door opened for Barbra Jean. "I can't wait to dress up Reba. I've always wanted a Reba doll. Van really should..." Barbra Jean trailed off as she saw the shoes department for Dillards. She pulled Cheyenne by her arm, forgetting the baby she had with her. "We should pick out the shoes while we wait for your mother. She said she was coming from across town." Barbra Jean immediately went to her favorite collection. "I just love these shoes." She quickly found a salesman, and asked for her size in a black heel. He disappeared into the back room as Barbra Jean sat next to Cheyenne.

"Oh, I do, too. They are so comfortable. I just know Mom's gonna love'em. She did always say you should never compromise when it came to style and comfort....or something like that." Cheyenne waved it off as she picked up a near by shoe. She moved it around, looking at it from all angles. "What about these?" Barbra Jean looked to Cheyenne, eyeing the shoe in her hands.

"I already have a pair of those. I wear'em all the time." Cheyenne gave her a look before putting the shoe back in its place. She glanced over her shoulder, watching as her mother slipped her sunglasses onto the top of her head. Her bangs falling back into her face, and her lips sliding into a nervous yet excited smile. "Hey, Reba, what do you think of these?" Barbra Jean had folded her pants up to her knees to see the three inch black heels with a pickaboo toe. As Reba joined Cheyenne in the chairs, Barbra Jean modeled the heels. Reba chuckled softly at her fashion model walk then checked on her grandson.

"Alright...We need to have everything bought by five. The party's at seven thirty, and I'm being picked up at eight." Reba stood up, checking out the shoes lined out in front of her. She watched as Barbra Jean and Cheyenne each picked out a different shoe. "Why don't we come back for shoes...after we know what I'm wearing?" Reba giggled as both women whined and put their shoes back. Once all purses, baby carriers, and a new pair of shoes were gathered, the women headed off to every reasonable store. By the time they had found the perfect outfit, Reba had tried on hundreds of dresses, skirts and shirts, and cute jeans they thought would look good on her. Her feet were killing her and the thought of trying on shoes for the next fifteen minutes made her head hurt. She followed the overly excited blondes, wondering why she put herself in this situation. She sighed as she found a chair. She pulled the bags off her arms, hissing when the feeling came back to them with an uncomfortable tingle. Cheyenne and Barbra Jean didn't waste any time, filling the salesman's arms with shoes. They wanted Reba to look perfect, and how many times did they get to play dress up with the woman they both admired with all their hearts and souls? Reba slipped her boots off, watching her grandson sleep. He was a quiet baby, who slept most of the day. Reba wished she could join him in dreamland, but the mall wouldn't be a great place to pass out at. She was jerked from her thoughts when boxes of shoes fell in front of her. Ovbiously the blondes had given him too many shoes to carry at once. She quickly bent down to the floor, resting on her knees, to help.

"Sorry about them... they don't get out much." Reba joked as she worked with Chris, the salesman, to find the correct matching shoes and boxes. By the time they had fixed everything, Cheyenne and Barbra Jean had ran out of desired shoes. Reba chuckled silently at Chris's sigh of relief. She rolled her eyes when she felt Barbra Jean rolling up her pant legs and attempting to pull her socks off. Now, she knew this would be the longest fifteen minutes of her life.


	3. Chapter 2

Reba walked into the kitchen, one hand behind her back. She looked around the kitchen, quickly finding no one. She expected Barbra Jean and Cheyenne to still be here. They did after all want to see her in the olive silk chiffon dress again. Reba was glad when all of them, including Van, had narrowed it down to three, but she really wanted to have a dress picked out. She had an hour to get ready, and the two blondes were no where to be seen. Reba finally settled on Van, who had laid back on the couch with a wet wash cloth over his eyes. He must have gotten hit one too many times. Reba sighed before shaking Van's leg with her free hand.

"I'M AWAKE! NO WAFFLE IRON!" Van yelled as he jerked to a sitting position, the wash cloth falling into his lap. He rubbed his mouth and eyes when he saw Reba smiling at him. He tossed the wash cloth to the coffee table, taking a second to let his eyes adjust to the lighting.

"Uh, do you know where my helpers disappeared to?" Van nodded his head, finally noticing the new dress on his mother-in-law and how she held one hand over her shoulder. He stood up, thinking for a second. Cheyenne had given him instructions for Reba. "Well, are ya gonna tell me or just stand there? I have things I need to do." Reba switched her hands, shaking her tired arm. Van turned Reba around softly, taking the straps from her hands.

"They left to buy dinner. Cheyenne told me to tell you..." Van thought for a second, making sure he had everything correct before continuing. "...to go with the pink dress, but I'd have to disagree with her. I like this one better." Van made the first pull, checking to see if it was too tight. Reba shook her head, and Van quickly finished tying it. Reba turned back around, smoothing her dress out before glancing at her son-in-law. "You look perfect, Ms. H." Reba smiled softly at him, thanking him for helping her. She quickly left the room to finish getting ready. Van shook his head, wondering why Cheyenne would have picked the pink one over the green one. He shook his head again, sitting down and turning on the television.

Brock smiled to himself as he searched the faces of familar business owners. He hadn't realized how much he missed being his own boss until now. He hadn't been invited in almost two years. The decorations, he noticed, looked no different than before. The trees covered, from the trunks to the very tops, in white Christmas lights and the candles cased in little black houses were the only source of light. Gray wooden pinic tables scattered the large green yard. Red and white checkered table cloths covered all the tables. If he was being honest, the place almost looked like pinics were floating. Brock snapped back to reality when a familar laugh buzzed through his ears. He turned around, locking his eyes on the redhead who had just entered through the back gate. She was wearing an olive dress with beaded detail on the straps, waist, and hem. The V-neckline ending just in the right spot. Her shoulders were protected from the light breeze by a black shawl. The gorgous red locks she was famous for had been straightened and pulled back into a clippy, leaving her bangs dangling around her glistening blue eyes. Brock quickly walked her way, wondering if he had ever seen her this lovely before. Reba almost didn't spot him until he was right in front of her. The black long sleeve chamois shirt fit him well, and had been neatly tucked into his jeans. Reba wondered if he had bought a new pair, seeing no holes or faded areas of blue. Once her eyes landed at his feet a smile broke out on her face. He was wearing his cowboy boots. She hadn't seen him wear those in so long. Reba quickly lifted her head when his feet stopped in front of her's. A smile still on both their faces. Mr. Jones shook his head at Reba's shy grin and light blush. Why did he feel he was lost in a ball, waiting on the princess to find a prince? Mr. Jones stopped, shooked his head again, and walked over to Alex McGee. His daughter had been watching way to many fairy tale movies.

"So, what brings you here, Reba?" Brock stepped back a little when Mr. Jones past between them. It was an ovbious answer, Reba thought. Had he not seen who she came with? Had Barbra Jean not rushed to spill the news to him? She had to of known Brock was going, too. Who else would have ironed his shirt if Reba wasn't there to do it? Had Brock learned to iron? She sighed, moving to the side a bit when new guests arrived. Brock placed his hand on her upper arm, a silent offer to move to a more convient place. Reba and Brock walked step in step to a more quiet area.

"I came for business, I guess. My boss really wanted to go and apparently his wife needs me to keep an eye on him. You know, make sure he doesn't make a fool of himself." Reba laughed softly, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. She glanced around the yard. It had only changed slightly from the last time she was here, which happened to be the year before Jake was born. She wondered how many times Brock actually came without her, or if he had ever taken Barbra Jean. For some reason, she hoped he never had gone without her. Reba shook away her thoughts, afraid of where they could lead her. She didn't want to miss him or to long for him, and for the past six years, she had managed not to do so. She liked it that way, or so she thought. "Uh, what are you doing here? I thought you sold your office when you started to work for..." Brock cut her off, not wanting to ruin the night by bringing up that awful man. He still layed awake at night, wondering where he could have ran to, and if Jeremy had ever planned to come back. He wouldn't let that man hurt Reba again.

"I'm here for business, too. My boss said I knew more about how we run things than she did so she gave me the invitation. She told me to take whoever I wanted. I was gonna ask you, but Barbra Jean told me you already had an invite so; I didn't bring anyone." Brock shrugged his shoulders before continuing. He enjoyed talking to Reba when no one else they knew was around. It allowed them to be nice and opened. Something he missed greatly. "I did sell it...to Eugene of all people." Brock grinned at Reba's light chuckle. She knew the type of childish fights he and Eugene could get into. She had even been caught in the middle of a few. He chuckled himself remembering the court date Reba was forced to go to. "I'm sorry Eugene dragged you to court, and that I almost got you in trouble." Brock let out a mocking smile, allowing it to change into a soft one when Reba rolled her eyes. Reba felt her shawl slipping down her arms, revealing her shoulders, but didn't feel like fixing it. The warmed air around them, mixed in with the occasional breeze, made the temperture just right, allowing her to remove the aritcle of clothing.

"Shall we get a table? I'm sort-a hungry." Brock nodded understandingly. He walked with her to a table in the far corner. It was farest from the speakers, and just off the left of the dance floor. Brock left to get their plates and drinks. Reba watched as he walked away. She grinned slightly when he was stopped by a past friend and had pointed to her before stepping away. Reba waved at the familar face, covering her shoulders with her shawl again when he joined her at the table. As the man sat next to her, Reba glanced towards the dance floor. She was about to turn her attention to him when she caught something in the corner of her eye. She looked back, but nothing was there. She could have sworn Anna Benton was dancing with someone. Reba shook it away as a deep southern voice traveled to her.

"Well, well...If it isn't the Mrs. herself. How have ya been?" Reba shrugged her shoulers, chuckling a bit. It had been over ten years since she last talked to David Kernly. According to Brock, his business had made its way across the country. He left Houston to move his business to New York. He must not of heard of her divorce or the recent gossip about her since he arrived back. She didn't know whether she wanted to correct him either. It was a long story, and she knew someone here would tell him eventually.

"I've been great. I had a son since I saw you last." Reba smiled at his excitement. He had always been a joy to talk to. David encouraged her to tell him everything. She looked down at the table, realizing she didn't have much to say that didn't give away the past eight years. "Well, we...Brock and I...found out about fifteen years ago. A year after our last time here. We named him Jake, and he's quite a kid. Brock was so excited to finally have a son." Reba paused seeing the amused look on David's face. He took a sip of his beverage.

"Bet he was. He always told me he would love to have a little boy. I'm glad he got one. You'll have to bring him by sometime. So, how are those cute little girls of yours?" Reba chuckled, shaking her head a little. Her girls had grown up so much. Maybe a little too much for her liking. She missed them being small, and asking her constant questions. If it wasn't for the fact they still argued she might have missed that, too. David took another sip, waiting for her to continue. He only took sips of his drinks, always claiming it made him look mysterious and classy. The first time Reba had heard this she had nearly laughed, but soon found he pulled it off well. His dark cowboy hat, resting in just the right spot on his head, shadowing his eyes, added to the effect.

"They're not that little any more. Cheyenne's married with two little ones of her own, and Kyra has her own band. I'm...We're both real proud of them." Reba grinned when Brock came back to the table. He gave David a playful smirk, joining the two at the table. He moved closer to Reba after placing her food and drink in front of her. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, taking a chance to pull her against his body. The smell of roses and lemons filled the air around him, making his heart beat a little faster.

"You're not trying to make me jealous, are you?" Reba rolled her eyes as she scooted closer to Brock in order to sit straighter. They had always kidded in such ways. Reba looked around the party, wondering how many of their old friends were here.

"No, man, I know she's taken. I just can't wait for her to realize she can do better. Which reminds me...Reba," David turned his attention towards Reba, who started listening to the conversation again. "I'll have to give you my new number so when you get bored with this one...you'll know where to call...for a much finer class of man." David smiled, reaching into his pocket for a couple of business cards. He handed one to each of them before taking another sip of his clear drink. Reba smiled sweetly at him, leaning her head on Brock's shoulder. Like she had done many times before, she wrapped Brock into a hug.

"That's sweet of you, but I already found the guy for me. I don't think I'll be doing any better for a long time." Brock scoffed and David chuckled at her comment. Reba stayed like she was, playing the role of happy wife for a little while longer. She really didn't mind it though. It was fun to see the look on David's face whenever she turned him down. He almost seemed truly disappointed each and every time. She smiled bigger as he snapped his finger in a playful manner.

"Well, shoot! I guess there's always next year. Brock, congrats on the boy. I'd love to sit and chit chat some more, but I have a business to expand. I'll talk to ya'll later." David politely tilted his hat towards his friends before heading to the dance floor. Reba and Brock waited until he was out of sight before bursting into light laughter.

"Wow! I didn't think we could have fooled him so well. I'm glad you went along with it." Reba took a swallow of her tea, thinking Brock still remembered the way she liked it. She smiled at him, still chuckling at the past few mintues. Brock cleared his throat, enjoying the fun she seemed to be having. He wanted to know why she didn't tell David they weren't together anymore, but that might take the night into a depressing tone. He savored the moments like these; the ones where she smiled and forgot all the bad things. Reba watched the couples dancing as Brock started the conversation. Her eyes widened a bit when she saw another glimpse of Anna.

_she can't be here. there's no way._

Reba closed her eyes briefly, telling herself to get a grip. She turned more towards Brock and less towards the party. She had to be seeing things. Anna Benton had just moved to town. Could she really own a business, and already be invited? It didn't make sense, but the more Reba thought about it, the more she panicked. Quickly, her eyes darted to the party guest, wondering if she'd actually find her walking the floor or not. From where she sat, Reba could only see half the yard which began to frustrate her.

"Reba, you ok?" Her attention shot from the people around her to Brock's concerned face. Why hadn't she been listening to what he was saying? It was always a good way to show everything was fine. Reba nodded her head, slowly convincing herself it was nothing but a look-a-like. Once Brock was sure she was back, he took control of the conversation, talking with her for a couple of hours. They laughed, reminised, and even confused a few people about their relationship status. The party was starting to come to an end, but neither Reba nor Brock wanted to leave. They had let everything go tonight, and for once in a long time had a wonderful time together. Reba had managed to keep her eyes on Brock or whoever was talking with them for most of the time. Occasionally, her eyes betrayed her and Reba found herself seeing Anna having a blast. She chuckled at Brock's latest joke before a comfortable silence took them over. Brock listened as another song began to play and decided he wanted to dance at least once tonight. If the redhead said yes, it'd make the night absolutly perfect. "You wanna dance, Brock?" Reba's eyes sparkled as she finished off her tea, setting the glass to the side. Brock was surprised she had beaten him to the question. He quickly cleared his throat, nodding his head yes. As they danced, Reba rested her head on his shoulder, taking the chance to view the rest of the decorations and guests. It had always amazed her just how much went into this night and how many people came. She had enjoyed each and every year, treasuring its beauty and grace. It had always sent her into a fairy tale like state, taking her under its spell. Reba sighed as she closed her eyes for a few spins. Brock felt her deep sigh, and smiled to himself. He knew she loved coming to this party. He wondered if that was why he couldn't come without her. This was their place forever, and he would never dream of tainting it with someone else at his side. In his own selfish way, he had only wanted to see her in the golden lights around them. He had only wanted to dance with her loosly held in his arms. Brock pressed his head into hers, humming softly to the music. If only for a minute, everything was perfect. Brock was slightly disappointed when Reba lifted her head, staring over his shoulder.

"Brock, I need you to tell me if you see a woman in a dark purple dress...walking across the dance floor." Something in Reba's voice made him spin them around so he could look without it being ovbious. Brock nodded his head, grinning softly. Reba closed her eyes shortly, finally accepting that Anna was there. Reba took a shaky breath, trying to remain calm.

"Yeah, she's my new boss. Her name's Anna Benton. Apparently she was running the smaller business in France. Her father was a denist and her mother had been to medical school. So, she knows a little of what's going on. She doesn't plan on being in charge for long though. She wants to open her own floral shop." Reba listened intently on what he was saying, all the while continuing their dance. She felt her nerves rise with each word. If Anna had taken over the business and didn't intend on running it for long then that only meant Jeremy planned on coming back. If he wasn't already hiding somewhere in the city, she knew he was close to doing so. Reba tuned out everything around her as her thoughts ran wild. She even let her body freeze, having Brock almost drag her around the dance floor.

_he's here...he could be watching me...or the kids. i need to get home. i need to tell someone. Anna's just hiding Jeremy and keeping an eye on things for him...and he'll show up when everything's calm again. when every one forgets what happened and who he was. he's smarter than me...he's showed it over and over again... what do i do? he's slowly coming after me... _

"Reba, what's wrong? Do we need to sit down?" Brock's voice broke through, bringing her back to her surroundings. Reba gently pushed him away, shortly placing her hand on her forehead. Brock placed his hand behind her upper arm, offering to walk her back to the table. Reba shook her head, taking a deep breath. She stepped back again, looking around the party.

"I'm fine, Brock. I have a headache. I think it's just my allergies. Uh...I'm gonna go to the restroom." Reba started to walk past him, but Brock gently grabbed her arm. He held a worried stare, and she knew she wouldn't be able to sneak out. "I'll be right back. Don't worry." Reba pulled away from him, quickly making her way to the restroom. Once inside, her nerves had calmed for a second. It wasn't as loud or crowded as it was outside. She was thankful for that. Reba turned on the cold water, letting it run for a minute before splashing her face a couple of times.

_calm down...it's not like i've seen him tonight. who knows...Anna may have nothing to do with Jeremy. she's just running his business and looks a lot like him...that's no big deal..._

Reba tried to believe her thoughts, but it didn't work very well. She was still breathing unevenly, and her head was still pounding. She cleared her throat, wiped her face, and walked out. She didn't see Brock on the dance floor, and figured he'd gone back to the table. Reba decided she needed to leave. Her fears wouldn't settle down, and she could think of no other place to be than home right now. She made her way back to the table, nearly falling over when she saw Anna sitting next to Brock at their table. She took a deep breath as Brock smiled at her. Reba sat next to him, figuring she could be civil. Anna let out a surprised 'Ms. Hart!' as Reba said hello.

"I had no clue you'd be here. I didn't know you owned that place." Anna spoke with full excitement and enjoyment. Reba could only shake her head, breathing just as hard as before. This was too much for her. Anna seemed clueless of what Jeremy had done. How could she help that man? How could she sit there with just a child-like smile and pretend nothing was wrong? Reba cleared her throat, feeling Brock hold her hand under the table.

"Uh, no, I don't own it. My boss invited me." Reba figured the best thing to do was talk in short, simple sentences. She didn't want to worry Brock any more than he was, or give Anna the benefit of seeing how messed up she was. Reba listened as Anna and Brock talked, rarely putting in any input. She waited only half a song before standing up, letting go of Brock's hand in the process. "Umm...Brock, I'm not feeling well. I think I'm gonna head on home, and Anna, it was nice seeing you again. Let me know how the house is working out for you, will you?" Anna nodded her head as Brock stood up next to Reba. He pulled her gently to the side, concern stretching his face.

"Do you need me to take you home?" Brock whispered just loud enough for her to hear. He was really worried about her now. She had paled when she made it back to him, and her hand was a little sweaty. Reba shook her head as soon as he had asked. She immediately regretted doing so. Her head started to pound more.

_i need to leave....i can't take this...there's way too many people here....ah, my head hurts.._

"No, you stay here. Enjoy the party. I know how much you love being here. I'll just take a taxi or something. I'll be fine. I promise." Reba smiled weakly at him, trying with all her strength to keep from losing control. She couldn't help but feel like that was completely out of her reach. Brock hesitated before nodding his head. Reba hoped she smiled reassuringly. Her attention was going in every which way, and pretending to have just a headache was increasingly harder to do. "I'll call you as soon as I'm home. How 'bout that?" Brock seemed to calm down a bit as she said it. He nodded his head again, pulling her to him for a quick hug. He couldn't believe he was letting her leave without him, but she didn't seem to want him with her. He had to give her the space she was needing. Reba waited for him to sit back at the table before searching for her boss.

Cheyenne was the last one sitting at the kitchen table, stabbing her fork into her cold mashed potatoes. She normally would have began washing dishes, but tonight she had a lot on her mind. Staying at her grandmother's house was starting to annoy her. She couldn't handle sharing a bathroom with nine other people. It was hard enough sharing one with Van. The bedrooms were so close together that everytime her mother had a nightmare and needed a shower Cheyenne could hear. She hadn't been prepared for this long of a journey. It hurt knowing her mother still couldn't move on. They had all agreed on taking things slowly, letting Reba be in charge. She'd be the one to say when it was time to move out, or to even go somewhere without a 'partner'. After two months of waiting, everyone's patience seemed to be running low. Henry and Elizabeth fought over everything constantly. Kyra and Jake, since he was the only one with spare time on his hands, had rarely been home during the evenings and nights since Krya had gigs. Cheyenne missed having alone time. The idea of pushing her mother a few steps had crossed her mind several times, but she just didn't have 'the stones', as Van put it, to do it. She never thought moving out a second time would be harder than the first time. It was the only thing on her mind for most of the day, sending her in long episodes of staring off into space. Elizabeth walked into the kitchen, dropping her shoulders when she saw Cheyenne. She eased her way over to the blonde, sitting down across from her. When she noticed Cheyenne hadn't even blinked, she cleared her throat. Cheyenne jolted into reality at the noise, blushing slightly at her grandmother.

"Cheyenne, Honey, it's been three hours. I don't think you're gonna eat it." Elizabeth watched as her first grandbaby pushed her plate away, a heavy sigh escaping her lips. Cheyenne placed her head in her hands, taking a deep breath. Elizabeth stood up, taking Cheyenne's plate to the sink. "Do you have anything you wanna talk about?" Cheyenne turned her head towards her grandmother. She saw the comforting and welcoming smile that had always been there when she'd been in countless teenage problems. Sitting up straighter, she contemplated wheither or not to tell her. Van and Cheyenne hadn't told anyone what they were wanting to do. Maybe it was time. It had been a couple of weeks since they mentioned it to each other. Cheyenne took a deep breath, resting her chin in the palm of her hand. "Cheyenne, Sweetie?" Elizabeth took her place back at the table, seeing the tears brimming Cheyenne's eyes. This was serious, and she knew it would take time.

"We could have helped her. If Van and I never moved out...she would have never had to be alone. She would have never felt lonely. This never would have happened." Cheyenne felt the tears pouring down her cheeks, but didn't move to wipe them away. She was tired of hiding what she was feeling. It was too much for her to handle alone. "Even if she would have gotten together with Jeremy...she wouldn't have been home alone with him. We would have been there, and Jeremy wouldn't have had the opportunity to do anything. None of this would have..." Elizabeth shushed Cheyenne, reaching for her hand. She held it tightly in her own hands, giving her granddaughter a stern look. Elizabeth moved closer to Cheyenne, wrapping an arm around her shoulders.

"That's a lot to be holding in, Cheyenne. Does Van know you feel this way?" Cheyenne nodded her head, adding that he felt the same. Elizabeth pulled Cheyenne even closer to her body, resting her head on top of her granddaughter's as it layed on her shoulder. "Sweetheart, there is no way you could have kept this from happening. Jeremy, from what I know, is sick. Plus, would your mother break up with a man in front of you and Van?" After a moment of silence, Elizabeth answered her own question. "No, ma'am, she wouldn't have. 'Specially if she thought he was like Jeremy. There would have been no way in...well you know...that she'd have allowed you or any of the other kids to be in harms way. You know this." Cheyenne pushed away from her grandmother, standing up. Although her grandmother was making sense, Cheyenne didn't want to believe her mother had been completely helpless. Her mother had never been helpless, not even in the slightest bit. Cheyenne took a deep breath, bracing herself on the kitchen counter.

"Grandma, I do know that. I just can't help but feel this way. If I had been there then I'd have noticed everything that Kyra and Jake did. I would have said something to her. I could have helped her get rid of him. And you know how protective Van is...Jeremy wouldn't have been around for long. Maybe he would have given up seeing how hard it would have been to get past all of us to get to her." Cheyenne paused, knowing she wasn't making any logical sense, but at the same time, feeling it would have happened exactly like that. Elizabeth stood up, walked to Cheyenne's side, and cleared her throat.

"You know just as well as I do, that man wouldn't have gave up. He had his mind set on hurting her. He would have done it wheither he was dating her or not. To that man, everything is about power and winning. You have to admit your mother's giving him quite a fight." Cheyenne raised her eyebrow, thinking it over for a minute. Had her mother even fought him? Wasn't the video they saw made after the attack? He didn't look scratched or bruised. If her mother had given him a fight, Cheyenne was certain there'd be marks. Elizabeth waited for a few minutes, knowing Cheyenne wasn't quite ready to give this up. Cheyenne shook her head, pushing away from the counter. She paced shortly in front of her grandmother.

"You know, I don't think she fought him at all. There's no signs of her doing anything to him." Elizabeth stood up straighter and placed her hands on Cheyenne's upper arms. She waited a second, getting her thoughts in order. She took a deep breath, watching as Cheyenne mimicked her.

"Your mother hasn't stopped fighting him, Cheyenne. She has done so many brave things that hurt him. She may not have physically hurt him, but there are so many other things. So many. First, she pressed charges. She's gone to therpy. She's been slowly but surely venturing out more by herself. All at the same time as knowing Jeremy could be watching, getting angry. She's having to fight for your safty. I bet you didn't even know she wakes up every two hours to check the house and yards. Now, I don't know about you, but I'd considered that fighting." Cheyenne stepped back, out of her grandmother's reach. She hadn't known that. Of course the nightmares were evident, but waking up just to check around the house was new to her. Cheyenne ran a hand through her hair, thinking of all the little things she'd seen her mother do over the past two months. Cheyenne finally came to the conclusion that her grandmother was right. Her mother had been fighting. She swallowed the lump in her throat, feeling more tears on her cheeks. Stepping back into her grandmother's arms, Cheyenne wrapped her arms tightly around Elizabeth's body. "If you're still feeling like you were, Cheyenne, I suggest you talk to your mother about it. She can answer your questions a lot better than I can." Elizabeth felt Cheyenne pull away from and let go. She smiled softly at the young woman, tucking her hair behind her ears.

"You're right, Grandma. Thanks. I think I'll talk to her tomorrow after she's had her coffee." Cheyenne giggled a little before walking to the sink. She turned the water on, striking up another conversation with Elizabeth. The two washed the dishes as they laughed and spent the next hour hanging out.


	4. Chapter 3

Brock sat at the pinic table, watching Reba's body dart across the elegent yard and listening to Anna tell him about her new house. He didn't pay much attention to anything as Reba disappeared through the wooden back gate. Brock jumped to his feet, jogging after her. He wanted to stay like she had asked him to do, but he just couldn't do it. She was upset and panicking, and he couldn't let her go around town in that state. At least, not without him by her side. Just as Reba was opening the cab door, he placed his hand on her shoulder, receiving a yelp from her. He quickly held his hands in the air, showing her he wasn't anything to be afraid of. "I'm going with you." Brock stated once Reba had calmed down some. His voice had left no room for disagreement, and she had almost given in to him. But being who she was, Reba and Brock both knew she would fight back anyway. Reba lowered her hand from her chest, shaking her head no. He couldn't go with her. She didn't want him getting in trouble with his new boss because he was helping her. Reba just couldn't allow him to go with her. No matter how much she wanted him there. Noticing how hard she was trying to keep under control, Brock lost all power behind his words. He wasn't helping her at all, but still he would try. "Why not?" Brock took a step closer to her, placing his hands on the opened door between them. Neither paid attention to the easedropping cab driver turned sideways to watch the scene. Reba looked down, their hands making an 'every other one' pattern on the door, and smiled softly at how different their hands really were. Snapping back to the current moment, Reba's smile faded and her panic shot up again.

"I'm just going home. You stay and enjoy the party, Brock. You're new boss is here, and you shouldn't disappoint her. Really, I'll be fine. Nothing to worry about." Reba gave him a fake smile, hoping the bright moonlight wouldn't give it away. Brock didn't have to see the smile on her face, which was shadowed by the trees, to know something was wrong. Her voice was slightly shaky, and hidden under the casual tone lay the fear she was feeling. Starring into her eyes, which sparkled with the moonlight, he realized just how far they had drifted apart from each other over the past year. Her thoughts, being protrayed through the dazzling beauties, were foreign to him now. He stared at her for a minute, wondering what she had planned. He wanted to be apart of it, but fought the strong urge to argue with her. Brock nodded his head, taking a step back. He would let her win this time. Reba smiled slightly at him as she climbed into the back seat, knowing it was killing him to let her win. Shutting the yellow door behind her, Brock waved a final goodbye before taking a few steps backwards again. Reba leaned back into the leather seat, waiting for the driver to back out before telling him where she wanted to go. As the tires of the cab disturbed the gravel driveway, Reba looked over her shoulder and watched Brock get smaller and smaller. She turned back around, sank into the seat, and pulled her shawl over her shoulders, covering her chest in the process. This was all up to her now. Brock walked back to his table in the far right corner of the yard, finding Anna still sitting there with a content smile and a bottle of cola in her hands. He sighed, placing a small smile on his face when she noticed he had returned. She gave him a sympathetic look, wondering why Reba would have darted off like she had. Did she say something she wasn't suppose to say? She hoped her cover wasn't blown. So far not many had guessed the relationship between her and Jeremy. A few in the office had been spreading the rumor, but if Brock, her ex-husband and apparently best friend, hadn't noticed then Reba couldn't possibly have noticed either, right? She was worried now, and decided interrogating Brock wouldn't hurt her anymore than what she already was.

"Will she be ok?" With her voice filled with friendly concern, Anna watched his tense form make it's way towards her. Brock nodded his head, letting out an uneven sigh as he sat down. Why had he just let her go? It was completely against his better judgement. He downed the rest of his beer, glancing at Anna. His eyes locked on her features, studying the woman before him. There was something about her that made him feel as if he was missing something. Everytime he came close to her he felt the strange feeling of leaving something behind or forgetting to do something. He could never quite put his finger on it, and whenever he came close to doing so she would leave. Brock decided tonight he would figure out what he was forgetting. He would find out what Anna Benton was hiding from the world. If she was the reason Reba panicked then Brock would help by removing the mask and costume Anna was wearing. Knowing all he had was at stake, he would do this for Reba. She was the only thing he couldn't sacrafice in his life. Her and the kids. His job was replaceable and could easliy be started over, but his family couldn't be exchanged for anything in the world.

"Uh, yeah, she'll be fine. I had her promise to call me when she made it home. So, how do you like working here compared to working over in France?" Brock started their back and forth game. Neither one willing to give more than what the other had asked for, and neither would let up on the questions either.

Reba slammed the cab door shut behind her as she ran up the stairs, trying miserably to even out her breath. She hoped they would listen to her and help her. She couldn't do this completely on her own, and if they would all play their cards right then Jeremy would be found in no time. Reba smiled as an adrenaline rush ran through her body. She pulled open the door to the police station, walking quickly to the front desk. Officer Gray slapped his partner's arm before pointing towards Reba Hart. He hadn't expected to see her back. He figured Jeremy had fled the country, and wouldn't risk coming back. Although he had drove by the Hart's residence once or twice since they had to give up on the case, he hadn't seen anything out of the ordinary. "What is she doing here? You don't think he came back, do you?" Officer Taylor placed his fresh coffee on his desk, watching as the redhead made her way towards the front desk. She tapped her fingers hurriedly on the top of it, waiting impatiently for someone to help her.

"Let's hope not. Maybe we should go find out." Officer Gray waisted no time, jumping to his feet and walking next to his partner, who had started to walk towards her. Reba turned her head, hearing her name being called. She let out a deep breath, almost immediately telling them why she was there.

"Anna...she's here. I think she knows where Jeremy is..." Officer Taylor quickly motioned her to his desk, hoping to get her out of the waiting room. Officer Gray followed the two, looking around the room. That was big news. How did they miss Anna Shelton coming into town, and when had she done so? Reba slowly sat down in the uncomfortable brown chair as she looked around the room before her eyes landed back on the officers in front of her.

"How do you know this, Ms. Hart?" Officer Gray started the questions as his partner left to get another cup of coffee for Reba. She hadn't wanted one, but at the same time it would give her something to do when she needed to pause or take a break.

"Well, I didn't until this morning. She came into my office, wanting to buy a house. She was looking specifically for me. I didn't think anything of it until I really got a look at her. Almost everything about her looks like Jeremy. She even has the same scar on her hand," Reba held up one of her hands, plam facing Officer Gray, and drew the scar along it with her opposite hand's index finger. Officer Taylor came back just as she did this, waiting a second before handing her coffee to her. "...although it's the opposite hand from Jeremy, but it's still the same. Uh..." She gratefully took the styofoam cup from Officer Taylor, taking a tiny sip. It was still hot, and she didn't want to burn her mouth. Taking a deep breath, she told her day's events.

He walked through the miles of flowers in the backyard's garden. Bright colors danced around him in a brillant rainbow pattern. He had promised to keep the despicable things alive for her. Now he spent most of his day watering, fertilizing, and doing everything else she had showed him how to do. As he glanced around the yard, holding out the music player towards the plants, he had to admit they looked better when she did these things. Most of the flowers had started to droop, giving into the abandonment his sister had given them the minute he showed up on her doorstep. His sister, he knew, would always do what he wanted. She was easily manipulated, and loved him so dearly. She had worshiped him when she was a kid and he was a teenager. That was how Jeremy convinced her to become blood siblings. Even though they were siblings, through their mother, they had never felt completely together. After watching a movie with the idea of cutting on the palm of the hand and placing the hands together, the two had done the same. The only difference was Jeremy went too far with cutting on their hands. Jeremy set the purple boom box down, stepping over the long orange extension cord before opening his hand. Looking over the scar, he felt an odd feeling run through him. Something wasn't going right. He took a better look at the dreaded plants around him before jerking his head to the house. The phone was ringing as it sat on the deck's porch facing towards him. He sighed before making his first step. The calm noise pushing through the speakers on the boom box became quieter and quieter as the ringing of the phone became louder. He reached the phone just as it went to voice mail. He groaned from anger tossing the phone forcefully back to the deck. He left the yard like it was, storming into the house. His sister was suppose to call him an hour ago, and now that he realized the time his anger boiled beneath his paling skin. He hated staying in France and couldn't wait until his return to Houston, if only for a day. Jeremy grab his small notebook, turning a couple of pages before picking up his cell phone. He almost pressed the call button when his sister's high school sweet heart arrived home from work.

"Hey, Jeremy, how was your day?" Kyle Benton set his breif case next to his desk which sat to the left of the front door. Jeremy rolled his eyes before placing a smug smile on his face. Kyle smiled back at him, not noticing the tension in the other man's body. Kyle walked towards the large kitchen, looking through his mail.

"It was the same as yesterday. How was yours?" Jeremy opened the refrigerator door, pulling out a water bottle and handing it towards Kyle. He gratefully took it from him, explaining the back up of paperwork at his office. Jeremy could see the stress written across Kyle's face. He smiled inwardly, remembering a certain redhead's same face. "I'm sorry to hear that. Hey, have you heard from Anna today? She normally calls by now." Jeremy pretended to pick at his fingernails, watching as Kyle's face loosened a bit at the mention of his wife. Jeremy remembered how the certain redhead had done the same at the mention of her family. Even if it was about some chaotic situation they had thrown themselves into, she would push everything to the side to help them. It had been so easy to break her. Jeremy's thoughts were shot to pieces when Kyle finally answered his question.

"Uh, yeah, I heard from her around lunch time. She was excited about buying a house on the outskirts of town. Apparently there's twice as much yard there as we have here, and the house has vines circling around it. You know how crazy she is about finding that perfect house. I just hope she doesn't get too attached. It'll be terrible when she has to leave to come home." Kyle shook his head, reaching into a cabinet to look for an idea on dinner. Jeremy drowned out the last of Kyle's words as he calmly made his way from the room. At the mention of buying a house, Jeremy realized what had gone wrong. He grabbed his phone and notebook, shouting over his shoulder that he was going for a walk. Kyle shouted an 'ok' from the kitchen before the door slammed behind Jeremy.

Brock checked his cell phone for the hundredth time since he arrived home. Reba hadn't called him once, and she should have been home three hours ago. According to Cheyenne, she hadn't seen her mother since she left that evening. He was worried now. She wasn't answering her phone, hadn't called him or the house, and no one knew where she was. Brock plopped down on the couch, running his hands through his hair. The realization of who Anna was had caused the party to end earily for him. Why, he couldn't understand, did Reba not tell him what was going on? Why couldn't he see it to begin with? Where was Reba? Brock lifted his phone again, still seeing the same old screen. He placed his head in his hands, sighing deeply as questions clouded his thoughts. Elizabeth walked into the living room, frowning at her son. His hair was sticking up on its ends from the constant running through of his hands, and his eyes were bloodshot and tired. To be honest, he looked like it was killing him not knowing how she was doing and where she was. Elizabeth made herself known as she sat next to him on the couch. "Brock, Honey..." Brock turned his head to the side a little before looking back at the floor, his head still resting in his hands. Elizabeth wrapped an arm around him, rubbing his upper arm softly.

Reba stormed from the police station, feeling discouraged. They couldn't arrest her. All they could do was talk to her in the morning. Reba slipped her heels off, letting them dangle from her right hand has she descended the stairs. What was she to do now? They obviously weren't going to help her. Something major could happen between now and the morning. Reba pulled her cell phone out of her purse, realizing the cab driver had left her. She didn't blame him either. It had been three hours, and every minute of it was waisted on failing attempts to get the officers to do something. She opened her phone, not surprised when it wouldn't turn on. She tossed it back into her purse, walking to the gas station just a mile down the road. Reba glanced around her, enjoying the occasional light breeze. No one seemed to be out tonight. The road was still, the trees danced with the wind, and the lone dog howled some where in the distance. She stared straight ahead, focusing on the far shine of lights coming from the gas station. Reba picked up her pace, the caffine from the coffee kicking in slightly.

Barbra Jean pulled out of the Wal-Mart parking lot. A last minute craving for chocolate milk and mini Snickers drove her straight to the store. She had the back seat full of bags of candy and a few bottles of chocolate syrup. She smiled as her cell phone started ringing. She pulled it out of her purse, stopping at the red light. She said hello as she squirted a mouthful of chocolate syrup into her mouth. "Reba? What's wrong? What number are you calling me from?" Barbra Jean turned the radio down as she listened to Reba's voice. It was quiet but frantic. She was talking in short simple sentences, leaving Barbra Jean to worry. "What happened? Are you ok?....Yes, I will come and get you. Now, tell..." Barbra Jean looked to her phone as she started towards the gas station Reba was at. She kept the phone in her lap as she drove incase Reba called her back. It wasn't unusal for the redhead to hang up on her, but the way she was talking scared Barbra Jean a bit. She sped up as horrible thoughts crashed together inside her head.

Reba hung up the pay phone, turning around to face the gas station. Slowly she made her way inside, walking into the bathroom in the back of the store. The cashier watched her intently, waiting until the door closed behind her before looking away. She had seemed tired and angry at the same time. Nothing to really be concerned about. The cashier smiled as another customer set a bag of chips on the counter. Reba rested her hands on the sink, starring into the mirror. She had seen this woman before. It wasn't the one she had built herself up to be, but the one she had promised would never come back. Her mascara was running down her cheeks, which happened to be paler than usual, and her eyes were red and puffy. Her hair was down and messy. The clippy had fallen out once she broke out into a run, tears slipping down her cheeks also. Reba closed her eyes, opening them only to see herself back in the bathroom of her office after her nightmare. Shutting her eyes again, Reba took a deep breath and counted to ten before opening them again. When she saw her appearence was back, she washed the mascara off her cheeks and blew her nose before leaving the gas station to wait for Barbra Jean. As she looked around the parking lot and miles of roads, she wondered how she had let all of this happen. As she hopped onto the small ice box, she shook her head, focusing on the tips of her toes. She swung her legs one before the other, remembering fun family vacations and anything else that would keep her mind off of Jeremy. Barbra Jean sped into the parking lot, stopping her car right in front of a distracted Reba. She jumped out of her car, yelling at Reba, who lifted her head quickly.

"I'm fine, Barbra Jean. I just needed a ride home. I'm sure Brock's wondering why I haven't called. Oh, that reminds me. Can I borrow your phone?" Barbra Jean tossed her phone towards Reba, catching her off guard. Reba stumbled with the phone as it bounced off her stomach and fell towards the ground. She and Barbra Jean made a frustrated sound as it broke in two on the concrete. "Now, why did ya have to throw it at me?! I'm not in the state to catch anything, you MO-ron!" Reba bent down to pick up the pieces of the phone, rolling her eyes as Barbra Jean did the same and bumped her head into Reba's.

"I don't care about the phone, Red. I wanna know what's goin' on. You don't usually call me and hang up on me like that." Barbra Jean rubbed her forehead, reaching one hand out to collect her phone from Reba who was also rubbing her injuried forehead. "You never call me for a ride home anyway." Barbra Jean slipped the battery back into her phone, waiting for Reba to answer her.

"Well, I didn't have anyone else to call, and believe it or not...your number is the only one I can remember." Barbra Jean stopped everything she was doing, lifting her head to stare at Reba in honored shock. "Oh, no. I didn't mean that. I meant...Let's just go, please!" Reba darted for the passenger door, climbing into the bright pink bug. The car fitted Barbra Jean perfectly Reba thought as the blonde turned the car on. She immediately covered her ears as music blared from the speakers. "TURN THAT DOWN!" Barbra Jean did as was demanded from Reba. She pulled out of the gas station, repeating her question of concern. Reba rolled her eyes, ignoring the woman next to her. She didn't want to talk about anything until she saw Brock again. He was the only person on her mind at the moment. She needed to tell him she was ok and had made it home safely.

"Reba, I know what's going on." Reba turned her head to Barbra Jean, shocked she could have guessed just from her body language. There was no way the goofball could have figured it out. She wasn't even thinking about Anna or Jeremy. She folded her arms across her chest, encouraging Barbra Jean to continue. "Oh, yeah, it's so obvious. You still love him." Reba's eyes widened and she felt her jaw fall open. She yelled a shocked what and who, making Barbra Jean jump a little. "Hey, no yelling at the driver! And don't act so susprised. I know you two still love each other. I mean, why after all these years would you still be so close? I mean, he cheated on you for Spiderman's sake!" Reba rolled her eyes, turning her attention to her window.

"I do not love him anymore. It's something completely different." Reba swallowed the lump in her throat when everything came flashing back as they past the police station. She felt her anger rise as she watched the officers leaving with laughter and smiles on their faces. There was no way she could just sit back and wait. She had to do something, and the perfect person to help her was sitting in the driver's seat. Reba turned her attention back to Barbra Jean, an evil smile dancing on her lips. "Hey, Barbra Jean, I need your help." Barbra Jean swung her hand sideways as she brought the car to a stop. Feeling Reba's forehead and both cheeks, she asked if she was sick. Reba slapped Barbra Jean's hand away from her. "No, I'm not sick! I need your help in doing something. I-Well...Jeremy's sister is here. She's at the party with Brock. Apparently she's his new boss." Reba rolled her eyes, annoyed at how ignorant Brock could be. Maybe he knew and was scared to risk his job for her. He was a selfish and cheap man. Maybe he did know, but didn't want to upset her by saying anything. Reba shook her head, focusing on the questions Barbra Jean was shooting across the car at her. "Will you calm down!? I can't think with you talking." Barbra Jean rolled her eyes, turning down a street.

"How do you know it's her?" Reba looked down to her hands, really not knowing if Anna was Jeremy's sister or not. It was just a very good guess, she hoped. "You don't, do you? Reba, I know your scared he's gonna come back, but you shouldn't be." Barbra Jean stopped herself. It wasn't her place to tell Reba how she should feel. She didn't know what it was like to be going through what Reba had been for the past two months. She decided a long best friend talk was just what they needed. Pulling into the first parking lot she saw, Barbra Jean forced Reba to tell her everything. Reba soon forgot about going home or calling Brock, as she realized more and more that there were ways to prove Anna was related to Jeremy. With her mind bubbling with ideas, Reba sped through retelling her day. In the process of moving to her knees and facing Barbra Jean and talking as fast she possibly could, Reba had managed to feed Barbra Jean the energy she needed to join in on the crazy plans. Reba smiled to herself when Barbra Jean's eyes widened with an insane sparkle. "What are you thinking?" This was what she needed. Barbra Jean's crazy plans hardly ever worked, but maybe with a some type of starting point Reba could come up with something impossible of failing.

"I say we dress like ningas, break into her office, and search through everything! Jeremy's had to have left something behind. I mean, he did leave in a hurry." Reba nodded her head, liking the idea a whole lot. It was sneaky and brillant. Reba turned back into her seat, buckled up, and told Barbra Jean she liked it without the ninga costumes. "Fine! But that dress isn't gonna be easy to climb in." Reba shook her head, grabbing the chocolate syrup from Barbra Jean's hand and pouring herself a mouthful. "If we're gonna do this, we're gonna need something stronger." Barbra Jean glanced at a confused Reba before darting into the lane she wanted to be in. "Alcohol." Reba nodded her head, pointing at Barbra Jean as she swallowed the last of chocolate in her mouth. "Good idea? I know." Barbra Jean drove them to the nearest liquor store, bought quite a bit, and then headed towards Brock's work. Neither woman wanting to admit the danger and stupidity behind this plan. Barbra Jean wanted this to be over with as soon as possible. It killed her to see Reba so lost and scared. She wanted her best fiery friend back, and would do whatever it took to get just that. Reba wanted to know where Jeremy was, and needed to see him dead or behind bars. She wouldn't be able to feel her kids were safe until then. She knew they were tired of living at their grandmother's house. It was small and far from everywhere they liked going. She could tell they wanted her to be her old self, but how could she when everything was still so unstable? Reba took a deep breath, opening her first beer. She didn't care what her and Barbra Jean did tonight, or how much she drank. She wanted to let go of everything and forget the fight she was in now. This night would be one thing she'd regret. Reba downed the beer, ignoring the look on Barbra Jean's face as she grabbed her second one. Barbra Jean watched the redhead next to her. Maybe she'd get drunk before they even got to the office. Maybe, if they were both lucky, the redhead would past out or forget where they were headed. Barbra Jean drove slowly, wanting to waste as much time as possible.

Cheyenne paced in front of the bed her and Van now slept in. She couldn't help but worry something bad had happened to her mother. She normally would call, and tell someone what was going on. She was the responsible one out of all the adults. She didn't disappear for hours, leaving everyone sick with worry. It just wasn't like her to do this. "Cheyenne, Honey, please stop moving! You're making me dizzy." Van broke her train of thought as he closed his eyes, standing up from the bed. When he looked back at her, Cheyenne started pacing again. Van rolled his eyes, taking a few steps towards her. He reached his arms out, pulling her to him.

"Van, I'm worried. She's never done this before. What if something..." Van placed a finger on her lips, shushing her as he held her tightly. Cheyenne sighed, relaxing into his body. Van rubbed Cheyenne's back as he thought of something comforting to say. She had been nervous since the minute her father came home. He knew she had a right to be, too, and he would be lying if he said he wasn't feeling the exact same thing.

"I'm sure she's just...somewhere her cell phone doesn't get service. You know, like the time I went fishing with Mr. H. You couldn't get a hold of me for days. She's probably on her way home right now. I say wait a few more minutes, and if she's not back by then...I'll go look for her." Cheyenne sighed again, thinking it over for a few minutes. He was asking her not to worry, but how could she do that when her mother was practically missing. Cheyenne pushed away from Van, sitting on the edge of the bed and wrapping her arms around her chest. She didn't feel right about this whole situation. "Cheyenne?" Van waited for her to look at him as he thought of something clever to say. "Barbra Jean's not back yet either. Maybe the two ran into each other...You know how crazy Barbra Jean can get. Maybe she forced your mother to go to a bar with her....Ms. H. did look gorgeous tonight. They could be having a good time, and just haven't thought of calling." Cheyenne smiled softly at him, hoping he was on to something. She prayed Barbra Jean had done just that. She nodded her head, leaving the room to tuck in Elizabeth and Henry. They had recently wanted to sleep together, kicking Kyra out of her room.

Barbra Jean and Reba sat in the parking lot of Brock's office. It was a two story building, with six windows to each story. The women stared at it in silence as the radio ended another song. Reba took a swallow of her fourth beer, hoping it would take away her good judgement. Barbra Jean turned her head towards Reba, praying the woman still had common sense. "Reba, you sure you want to do this? I mean, we don't have any ninga..." Reba held up her hand, keeping her eyes on the building in front of her. She finished off the beer in her hands before opening the one sitting next to her in the seat.

"I'm not changing my mind." Reba spoke quietly, hinting to Barbra Jean that there was still a chance to talk her out of it. Barbra Jean cleared her throat, tapping her fingers on the steering wheel. She needed to think fast if she wanted this idea to be forgotten. Reba sighed, opening the car door. She didn't know what she was doing. She just wanted everything to be over with. Barbra Jean watched her best friend slowly walk to the front of the car sitting on top of the hood. She climbed out of the car as well, calling out to Reba. "Tonight's a nice night, isn't it?" Reba kept her eyes straight ahead as she put the bottle to her lips and tipped it upwards. Barbra Jean eased towards Reba, afraid of what the redhead was thinking. This was all new to her. "You know, Barbra Jean, this isn't what I want to do." Barbra Jean perked up a little at the comment, hoping this was her chance to change the plan. Why had she come up with this in the first place? Didn't she know Reba would have taken her up on it? Barbra Jean rolled her eyes at herself, joining Reba on the hood of the car.

"Then what do you want to do, Reba?" Barbra Jean looked at the side of Reba's head. She hadn't changed much in the years, but there were differences that Barbra Jean could really see tonight. Reba held a look of defeat across her face and body, something that Barbra Jean had never noticed before. Even when her marriage was falling apart, Reba had never shown defeat. Of course she had seemed depressed for a day or two, but never had anything more been evident. Barbra Jean let out the breath she was holding, looking away when Reba finished off her last beer.

"I want to go home." Reba stood back to her feet, stumbling a bit as she walked back to the passenger seat. Using the car as support she made it without falling. Barbra Jean shook her head, praying they could get home without another insane idea slipping into either of their heads. She climbed back into the driver's seat, scoffing as Reba opened another drink.

"Reba, do you really think you need anymore to drink? You're gonna be around your kids in a few minutes." Reba stared at Barbra Jean for the first time since they arrived at the office. She raised an eyebrow, taking another swallow. She didn't want to go to that home. She wasn't ready to face anyone or to give up on proving Anna was Jeremy's sister. She just needed a more sensible way of doing so. Reba looked down to her lap, rubbing the beer bottle with her thumb.

"I didn't mean that home. I meant home home...my home." Reba glanced up at Barbra Jean, the shock evident on her face. Even with the slurring of words, Barbra Jean could hear how serious Reba was being. Her friend might have been drunk, even way past drunk, but she still knew what she wanted. Barbra Jean nodded her head, starting the car once again. If the redhead wanted to go home, Barbra Jean didn't see a problem with it at all. Plus, if everyone was lucky, she'd feel comfortable with staying there again, and they could all finally move out of Elizabeth's home. All she had to truly worry about was the amount of alcohol her friend took in.


	5. Chapter 4

**A/N:** **Well, I know it's been awhile, but I've finally finished this part. So, enjoy it. Please, tell me what you think. Thanks! **

Barbra Jean finally made it to Reba's street. She couldn't believe the redhead had drunk the whole six pack. Knowing how horrible tomorrow would be for Reba, Barbra Jean thought of everything she would need. Aspirin, water, coffee, plenty of sleep. Shaking her head as Reba continued to ramble about finding Jeremy herself, she pulled into the driveway. Reba immediately stopped talking, staring wide eyed at the house. This had been the first time she had came back since Jeremy had left, and to her knowledge no one else had been by to check on things. The house should be exactly like she left it. Reba swallowed the lump in her throat, not giving a damn about anything. It wasn't like she could anyway. Her judgment had been gone long ago; her mind wasn't forming any type of coherent sentence. She stumbled to the hood of the car, leaning against it as she tried to focus her vision. Barbra Jean darted to her side, offering to help.

"No! I can...by myselfff." Reba closed her eyes, opening them shortly after. She stood as straight as she could before taking a few steps. Barbra Jean closed her eyes as her best friend's body fell onto the grass. She walked towards her only to be scolded for trying to help. Barbra Jean took a step back, crossing her arms as Reba tried once more. Falling backwards onto her butt, Reba gave the blonde a discouraged look. "Don't jusst sstand there! Help me!" Reba held out her hand, waiting for Barbra Jean to pull her up. Shaking her head no, Barbra Jean walked towards the front door. Reba closed her eyes again, whining as she halfway crawled and halfway walked after Barbra Jean. She chose the perfect time to be stubborn. Barbra Jean took the few minutes she had by herself to call Brock. She knew he would be worried sick about her and Reba, and to be honest, she didn't want him not knowing incase anything were to happen to the two of them. Pulling out her cell phone, she dialed his number quickly and looked out the window at Reba, who had fallen over again. She appeared to have given up, laying flat on her back and yelling for Barbra Jean to come back.

"Brock! Calm down! She. Is. Not. Missing!...She's with me. Uh, we're having a little bonding moment." Barbra Jean rolled her eyes, sitting down on the couch for a second. He wasn't calming down, wouldn't stop yelling at her, and apparently Reba could be really loud when she was drunk. "BROCK!...She's safe. I'm safe. We stopped by a liquor store, and she's had a little too much to drink. I think we're gonna stay at her old house for the night." She paused, letting the information sink in and stood up from the couch. She headed out the door, listening to his endless questions. "Apparently, she wanted to come here, Brock. I remember what you said happened last time, but maybe she needs this. I mean, who are we to keep her from going inside this house. Besides, she's drunk, and I mean REALLY drunk. I'm standing right next to her, and she hollering' for me still. I don't think she's gonna remember anything." Barbra Jean poked Reba's side with the end of her foot, causing Reba to roll over and ask for help. Brock wanted to know more, wanted to come get her, but Barbra Jean knew she couldn't allow that to happen. For some reason, she felt Reba needed to be here. Maybe she knew it would show Jeremy had actually left the country to never return, or maybe she was just tired of living in Elizabeth's home. She had a life of her own to live, and as much as her dream had been to be roommates with Reba, she was ready to be back in her own home. Reba was not the best roommate. Barbra Jean sighed, catching Brock's attention again. "I'm not bringing her home tonight, and I really don't think she wants to be around you right now. Let's just see what happens. We'll be home tomorrow afternoon. Bye, Brock." Barbra Jean closed her phone, put it in her pocket, and finally pulled Reba back onto her feet. With a little struggle and stumbling on Reba's part, they made their way inside the house.

"I...I want...to." Reba paused, falling onto the couch when Barbra Jean unwrapped her arm from her waist. "Look through his things." Slurring her words as she talked, Reba formed the sentence she had wanted to say all night. Barbra Jean gave her a look, crossing her arms as she did so. Reba glanced at her, falling sideways. "What?" Reba closed her eyes, stretching her legs out.

"You are crazy, BF. Just go to sleep already." Reba laughed softly at her friend as her mind wandered to different things. Sleep was not possible until she found out something about Jeremy. Barbra Jean sat down in the chair, watching Reba fall asleep slowly. Taking a deep breath, she walked into the kitchen and looked for the items she would need in the morning. Once she found everything, she grabbed a notepad and pen, walked back into the living room, and left Reba a note, saying she was upstairs. There was no room for misunderstandings or mistakes tonight. If, for some crazy reason, Reba woke up, she would flip if she couldn't find her. Barbra Jean left the note on the coffee table before walking upstairs to Reba's bedroom. Going into the redhead's closet, she looked for the boxes she saw when she came back for clothes with Cheyenne and Kyra. They had been in the far back of the top self. The spot was obviously picked out by Jeremy, seeing as Reba couldn't reach there. Barbra Jean smiled, finally glad she was so tall. It was coming in handy tonight as she easily pulled a couple boxes down. Setting them on the bed, she opened the first one. Glancing around the inside, she didn't find anything but old receipts from a few years ago. She pushed it aside, and opened the second box. Her cell phone started to ring before she could get a good look inside. Reading the caller id, she opened the phone.

"What, Brock?"

"Let me talk to Reba."

"No. I can't do that."

"And why not? I demand you let me talk to her!" Barbra Jean pulled the phone from her ear, giving it an 'i know he didn't' look, and hung the phone up. She wouldn't talk to him if he was going to be that way. He did not have any right to speak to her like that. Tossing her phone to the end of the bed, she let it ring until it went to voice mail. He would calm down soon enough. Barbra Jean pulled down the rest of the boxes, setting them all on the bed. Slowly, she went through them all.

Three hours went by before Barbra Jean looked up. A crash just outside the bedroom door caused her to call out Reba's name. A few minutes later the redhead was leaning against the bedroom door. "You ok, Reba? That sounded like it hurt?" Reba looked over her shoulder into the hallway, waving it off as she stumbled to the bed. She managed to make it without falling over, giving Barbra Jean a little comfort. She didn't want Reba to hurt herself trying to move from one room to the next, and so far nothing seemed to be broken or bleeding. "How are you feeling?" Reba rolled her eyes, pulling the box Barbra Jean was looking through to her lap.

"Why does everyone keep askin' me that? I'm fine! Does it look like I'm...never mind." Reba closed her eyes, opening them quickly. Her vision was still a little blurry, and reading over the letter in her hands was nearly impossible. "Can you tell me what that says?" Barbra Jean glanced over it some, not finding anything worth reading.

"Uh, it just talks about some old guy sending flowers every month to this one chick. That's it really. That's all anything in that box talks about." Reba nodded her head, pushing it to the floor with the other three. Barbra Jean sighed, tiredness slowly taking over her body. It was now one thirty in the morning. Reba fell backwards, turning her head to look at Barbra Jean. A few minutes went by before Barbra Jean got annoyed with it. "Yes? You need something...or do you want a picture?" Reba chuckled to herself, rolling over to her side. She traced the design sewn into her comforter, talking nonsense as her body slowly relaxed. Barbra Jean listened intently hearing a little comment about Brock pass through the redhead's lips. "What?" Reba sighed waving Barbra Jean away. She didn't feel like repeating herself. Barbra Jean leaned closer to Reba, trying hard to catch the words that fell into the fluffy pillow under Reba's head.

"He's a good man, you know? He might be cheap, greedy, and stupid; but he was always trying to do what he thought was good...which wasn't the good thing at all...I miss him sometimes, you know? I miss him a lot a lot." Reba closed her eyes, humming softly to herself as she snuggled her face against the pillow. Barbra Jean shook the confused face away as she stood up and darted to the other side of the bed, squatting down to be face to face with Reba.

"Who, Reba? Who do you miss a lot a lot?" Reba smiled like a little girl, closing her lips tight and making a 'nu-uh' noise. Barbra Jean let out a frustrated sigh, too tired to really find out but too curious to let it go. Rolling her eyes, she played along a little while longer. She could get some great blackmail if she was lucky. "Come on! I promise I won't tell...is it Brock?" Barbra Jean spoke back to Reba in the same child-like manner, hoping Reba hadn't already fallen asleep for the night. With a small smile and light blush forming on her face, Reba opened one eye to stare at her friend. "I was right! Tell me more!" Barbra Jean moved to sitting Indian style on the floor, waiting intently to hear what Reba would say.

"Well...you know, how when he's lying he...he stands with his chest tense...like he knows I'm gonna see he's lying and hit him..Well, I like the way you can see his muscles through his shirt." Reba sighed, dreaming of Brock. She had changed into a love-sick-for-the-first-time teenager. Barbra Jean took a deep breath, liking where this conversation was heading. "And...When we were married and he would come home late...if I couldn't wait up for him...he would carry me to bed, tuck me in... Kiss my forehead just like I was a little kid... Then he would go through his nightly routine before crawling into the bed next to me....wrapping his arms around me and resting his head just behind mine... sometimes...most of the time...I really miss the things like that... I think...he liked...to smell...my hair." Reba's words were soon followed by a deep relaxing breath. Barbra Jean smiled softly at her friend. Why couldn't she find a better man than Brock to love? Why did Brock have to be so good at the exact things Reba was talking about? He wasn't romantic at all, but he seemed to make it up in all the little things. Barbra Jean sighed as she stood up. He had never carried her upstairs or kissed her goodnight like you would a child. As she pulled the few boxes off the bed, she wondered how much in love her two best friends had been. If she hadn't allowed Brock to go as far as he had, would the two of them still be happily married? Maybe even have another child together? Barbra Jean shook it off before tucking the comforter around Reba. It didn't matter now, and she would never be Brock's wife again. She was happy with that, too. They both deserved to be in love and with that person for the rest of their lives. Leaving the bedroom, Barbra Jean checked her voicemail. Brock was way too old for her anyway. Smiling at her thought, Barbra Jean opened the hall closet.

_"Hey, Barbra Jean...I'm sorry about what I said." _Brock's tired and worried voice traveled through her shiny pink phone into her ear, making her frown slightly. He had to be very upset._ "I didn't mean to be so harsh. I just haven't heard from Reba in almost four hours. She wasn't feeling well at the party..." _Barbra Jean nodded her head, knowing everything behind that. Of course, Reba wouldn't feel well. _"..And she promised she would call me when she got home, but she never did. I'm just really worried. Please, call me back. I'm sorry. Tell Reba, I... uh, called." _Barbra Jean scrunched her eyebrows at the pause, but quickly shrugged it off as Brock keeping himself calm. She deleted the voicemail, putting her phone in her pocket. Carrying the twin sized air mattress and the electric air pump, she walked back into Reba's room. As the mattress aired up, she grabbed extra blankets from the hall closet and the other pillow off of Reba's bed. She made her bed a few minutes later, falling asleep shortly after scooting under the light quilt.

The next morning Reba awoke to the smell of fresh coffee and a terrible headache. As she sat up, her stomach shook with queasiness. She placed her hands on her knees and rested one hand on each temple. How much did Barbra Jean let her drink? Reba, standing up slowly, ran one hand through her hair and used the other to hold onto the bed post. Walking towards the bedroom door and not noticing Barbra Jean's bed, Reba tripped over it and landed on the floor with a thump. Barbra Jean looked up from the paper she was reading, raising an eyebrow as she heard faint yelling. She stood up, walking to the coffee pot. She poured the steaming liquid into a dark forest green mug, smiling as she heard the stairs creaking under Reba's feet. She grabbed the aspirin bottle on her way back to the table. Reba met her at the table, mumbling something about a stupid air mattress being where it shouldn't have been. Barbra Jean chuckled to herself, holding out both her hands. Reba snarled at the coffee, reaching for the medication. After taking the pills, Reba let her head drop to the table. "Oww." She stated firmly and mono-toned. Barbra Jean patted the back of Reba's shoulder before gently rubbing it for a minute.

"You want anything to eat?" Reba shook her head, her cheek sticking to the yellow table cloth. Barbra Jean set the coffee mug in the sink, ignoring the quiet sad moans coming from Reba. "You probably need more sleep. Why don't you go back to bed...in Kyra's room, and I'll clean up your bedroom...and maybe the rest of the house." Reba nodded her head, but didn't make any moves to get up. Barbra Jean walked back to Reba's side, helping her back upstairs. It didn't take long for Reba to be sleeping again. Barbra Jean tucked her in once more before leaving to clean the house. She had nothing better to do anyways.

The morning and early afternoon soon passed as Barbra Jean cleaned the house and Reba slept off her hangover. By the time Barbra Jean finished eating her small lunch, Reba was waking up. She stood up from Kyra's bed, stretching her arms above her head. She was feeling better than this morning, and as she walked back to her room for a comfortable pair of sweats, she realized exactly where she was.

"BARBRA JEAN! COME HERE NOW!" Reba yelled through the house, rolling her eyes when Barbra Jean replied with 'coming, honey'. "Why did we come here?" Reba rubbed her head with her hand, pushing her bedroom door open. Seeing only the room this time, she smiled. Maybe the memories and flashbacks weren't going to haunt her anymore. This would be something to tell her therapist on Tuesday. Maybe she could move back in. Reba swallowed the lump in her throat, shaking her head no. Not yet. She hadn't move on that far. Barbra Jean bounced into the room, almost running into Reba. "Took you long enough. Why are we _here?_" Reba spotted the familiar boxes on the floor near the closet and walked towards them. Barbra Jean sat down on her bed as she watched the redhead.

"Uh, you wanted to. Besides, it was a better idea than breaking into Anna's office. You feeling any better? You seriously know how to put some back, Peaches." After setting a box on her bed next to Barbra Jean, Reba gave her a death glare, and pulled the lid off the box. After quickly looking through all the composition notebooks, Reba decided she would have to read them later. They needed to get home before it got dark. She didn't want anyone worrying about them. "Brock called a whole bunch. I swear, he must seriously have a problem with me being your best friend...you know, and not him." Reba put the lid back on the box, carrying it out of the bedroom as Barbra Jean continued to ramble. They stopped just outside the bedroom door. "What's wrong? Did I say something?" Barbra Jean asked as she ran into the back of Reba causing her to move a few more steps.

"Grab a box! We need to leave before it gets dark. I wanna make it back in time for dinner." Barbra Jean rolled her eyes in a childish manner before stomping back into the bedroom for a box. "Now, what happened between you and Chester?" Barbra Jean cheered up, hearing that Reba was interested in her story. Hurrying to catch up with her best friend, Barbra Jean ran out of the room. Reba and Barbra Jean packed the Volkswagen with the boxes, laughing the entire time about the silly arguments Barbra Jean and Chester would have at work.

Cheyenne poked her head into the room she was currently sharing with Van and Jake. Seeing her husband sitting Indian style on the bed and reading over a folder filled with loose paper, she silently entered the room. She bit her lower lip, standing next to Jake, who was mimicking Van's every move next to him on the bed. "Uh, Jake, Dad's ready to take you. He's starting the truck now." Jake jumped up from the bed, grabbed his navy blue gym bag off the floor by the door, and raced to the car. Van watched him leave before turning to stare at his wife's uneasy face.

"What's wrong, Honey? Is it your mother?" Cheyenne's face remained the same as she shook her head. Van patted the bed next to him, and again Cheyenne shook her head. "Well, tell me, Cheyenne. I can't fix anything until you tell me." Cheyenne walked back to the bedroom door, looking down the hall both ways before shutting the door slightly.

"Uh, Van, I really do think now's the time to move out. I'm so tired of living so tightly packed. I mean...even at Mom's house we weren't this crowded." Cheyenne leaned against their dresser, watching Van's expression closely.

"But...you don't know how to tell your mother." Van stood up, pinching the bridge of his nose. This was not something he looked forward to, but knew his wife was right. They couldn't live here forever, and maybe having Reba in charge of all the decisions was the wrong thing to do. She would never let them leave. She had barely done so the first time. How on Earth would they start this conversation? "Well, if you're completely sure then I'll talk to her about it. It might be a difficult conversation..." Cheyenne raised her hand, halting Van in midsentence. This was one thing they needed to do together, and besides that, they would be talking to her mother. Kyra stopped outside the bedroom, hoping to overhear some wonderful blackmail for later. She hadn't been home much, and was starting to miss making fun of her older siblings. Having Jake around constantly, helped to keep her sharp with her comments, but it still wasn't as entertaining as it was with Cheyenne and Van. Listening intently, Kyra moved closer to the door, seeing her sister's back in the mirror.

"Van, we need to just tell her we're moving out. If she doesn't agree with us then we'll have to make her. I don't know how we plan on doing that, but we just have to. Otherwise, we're stuck here for who knows how long!" Kyra's mouth fell open, and her temper rose slightly. How could they even think of leaving their mother like this? She needed everyone. Yeah, it was crowded and overwhelming to have everyone under one roof, but they could deal with it. They should deal with it. Kyra pushed the door open, storming towards her older sister.

"How could you even think of leaving Mom? After everything she's done for you...after all the times she was there when you needed her, and you can't even do one thing for her? I knew you were selfish, but I never thought you could go this far. You should be focusing on helping Mom, not on how to tell her you're leaving! I can't believe you!" Kyra's voice traveled down the hall and throughout the house. Elizabeth listened for a few minutes before taking her grandkids out to the garden. Sisters were bound to fight, but this fight wasn't one for her to interrupt. Reba and Barbra Jean had just pulled into the driveway, and she knew the redhead had her own way of handling these things. Elizabeth and Henry ran from one vegetable plant to the next one, collecting any ready vegetables. Barbra Jean popped her trunk open, handing a box to Reba. Telling her to go on inside, Barbra Jean pulled the boxes out of the trunk and set them on the ground. Reba took a deep breath, not sure if she was ready to answer all the questions that played on the other side of the front door. Brock parked his truck on the side of the street, sighing when he saw Barbra Jean in the driveway. If she was home safe then so was Reba. He could stop worrying about both of them.

"Hey! Wait up and I'll help." Brock shouted towards Barbra Jean, catching the blonde's attention. She let out an uneven sigh, bending over to pick up a few of the boxes. When Brock stepped next to her, she wondered what he would say. He liked to be in the loop, and with their little adventure neither Reba nor she had told him what was going on. Secretly, she hoped Reba would tell him to shut up and mind his own business. Exactly like she would have before everything with Jeremy. It would be some form of normalcy. "Reba in the house?" Barbra Jean nodded her head, watching as he picked up the last two boxes. He nodded his head back at her, and both started towards the door. "Is this why she wanted to go to the old house?" Barbra Jean thought for a moment. She really didn't know why Reba had wanted to go back to her house. She had thought it was to go through all his things, but that didn't really happen. All she did was sleep the entire time.

Reba swung the kitchen door open, immediately hearing the fight upstairs. Trying to understand what it was about, Reba set her box on the kitchen counter and walked up the stairs. Kyra, Van, and Cheyenne's voices mixed together to form one hectic conversation. Standing in the doorway, Reba waited with her arms folded across her chest until someone noticed she was there. She never knew her children could get so passionate about one thing. Of course, their parents were pretty darn good at fighting. There were no questions on where they learned it. Finally deciding none of the young adults were going to see her, Reba cleared her throat and smirked when they all blushed from embarassment. Kyra glanced towards her sister and brother-in-law before moving to her mother's side. "May I ask what's going on?" Reba pushed away from the door frame, looking at Kyra as she spoke. Years of experience told her the youngest would be the first to voice her opinion.

"They are going to force you to agree with letting them move out. They weren't even going to let you have a say in it." Reba nodded her head, keeping a straight face as she turned her eyes to Cheyenne and Van. They both stood still with their eyes locked on the ground. Neither would dare to look at her, knowing she would be mad or scared. Reba took a few steps into the room, crossing her arms again as she stopped in front of her oldest child.

"Cheyenne, is this true?" The blonde nodded her head, giving Kyra a death glare as she started to open her mouth, but was beat to it by a nervous Van. She and Reba both moved their eyes upwards to look at him as he talked.

"Well, sort of, Ms. H. We were thinking of asking you if we could move out. We have some really good reasons, too...We were just afraid of how you would react. Kyra only misunderstood us." Van quickly stuck his tongue out at Kyra when Reba looked to the floor. Kyra rolled her eyes at his childish ways before focusing on her mother's body language. This couldn't be good for her emotional health right now. She needed to be supported; not left to handle everything on her own. Reba cleared her throat, walking back over to Kyra.

"Ok. Thank you, Sweet Heart, for caring about me. And trying to protect me, but I'm fine. Really, I am. Now, would you mind helping Barbra Jean with the boxes we brought home?" Kyra scoffed at first, expecting some type of emotion from her mother, but when Reba nodded her head, Kyra left to help without one word. Reba smiled after her daughter before turning around to face Cheyenne and Van. Cheyenne watched her mother intently, afraid the real fireworks were to go off at any second. Van had an even more worried face and kept glancing at the open door. Reba took a deep breath. "So, you're wanting to leave?" Cheyenne sighed. This was not the way she wanted her mother to find out. It was always better to tell or ask her things before she went to bed. That way she would be less likely to get mad, being a firm believer in never going to be angry. She wanted to bring it up after dinner when her mother was settling down to watch the ten o'clock news.

"Well, yeah, we were thinking about it. Bryan and Elizabeth need to be back home. Elizabeth hasn't had the chance to make friends in the neighborhood, yet, and I really think she should do that before school starts. She'll need at least one good friend. And, Bryan...well, he's little, but he still needs to get used to our house as being his home. This is his great grandma's house. Plus, our house is much closer to both mine and Van's work. I need my beauty sleep, Mom." Cheyenne took a deep breath, smiling uneasily at her mother. Reba nodded her head, putting her best poker face forward. She motioned for Cheyenne to sit down, and together they moved to the bed. Van, on the other hand, still wasn't buying his mother-in-law's act and moved closer to the bedroom door for an easy escape if need be. Reba raised an eyebrow at him, but shook it off as she looked back at Cheyenne.

"Those are good reasons. I understand that y'all really want to go home, and I really can't stop you. I mean, I could beg for you to stay...even threaten you like last time, but I'm not going to do that. You're both grown adults with a family of your own now. You need to make the decisions and pick what is right for y'all." Van took a step closer to Reba, staring at her like she had lost her mind.

"What are you saying, Ms. H? You'll let us leave? It won't hurt you or upset you in any way?" Reba thought for a second, nodding her head yes. Telling them they could leave and that she was really serious, Reba left them to make their final choice.

Brock and Barbra Jean ran into Kyra as they all walked into the kitchen at the same time. Barbra Jean noticed the frustrated expression on Kyra's face, and decided she would have to talk to her about it when Brock wasn't around. That man could be so nosey when it came to the women in his life. Maybe that was from the fact they didn't have many men in the family. Barbra Jean saw the box Reba had brought in and set her two next to it. Brock followed her lead. "Where's your mother?" Brock asked Kyra before she could leave the room.

"She's upstairs talking to Cheyenne and Van. I would wait a few minutes. It's a serious conversation." Brock and Barbra Jean both nodded their heads, waiting for Kyra to walk into the living room before staring at the stairs.

"What do you think it's about?" Barbra Jean asked, tapping her fingers lightly on the box in front of her. Brock glanced at her before shaking his head. He really had no clue what could have been urgent enough to tell them as soon as she got home. Maybe he could coax it out of Cheyenne later. Just as he was making a list of plans in order to trick Cheyenne later, Reba stomped down the stairs. Barbra Jean figured this was the perfect time to hang out with Kyra, and quickly left the room. With Reba standing on the last step and Brock leaning against the counter, the room fell silent.

"So...I heard you went home for the night." Brock broke the silence, watching his ex-wife and best friend closely. She nodded her head, walking to the refrigerator for a water bottle.

"I heard you demanded to talk to me." Reba attempted to twist the lid off, but after a few tries, held the bottle out towards Brock, who opened it with little effort before handing it back to her.

"Yes, I did. I was kind of worried. I might have over reacted...a little." Reba nodded her head, smiling slightly as she took her first swallow. Sitting down at the table, she grabbed an apple from the fruit basket in front of her. Brock thought for a minute before joining her at the table.

"Is there anything you want to tell me...like why you wanted to go home?" Reba delayed her answer by biting slowly into the Granny Smith apple. She stared at it after she pulled it away from her mouth, chewing as slowly as possible. Brock noticed this, but let it slide as he patiently waited for her answer. Reba glanced at him, and with what she saw portrayed in his eyes, she knew she would have to tell him. Reba sat up a little straighter, clearing her throat in the process. Brock readied himself for anything she would say to him.

"I don't really know why, Brock. It's just Anna was at the party, and she's your new boss. I don't know. Maybe I'm just going nuts. I can't tell anymore. I just want him dead or behind bars. Is that really too much to ask for? I'm worried sick about the kids, and now Cheyenne and Van are wanting to move back into their house. What I'm gonna do, Brock? This is all happening so fast. It's too much!" Reba jumped up from the chair halfway through her speech, running her hands through her hair. She had to have been going crazy. It was the only logical excuse for how she was feeling. Brock stared at her for a few minutes before stalking over to her. Reba kept her eyes on the floor as he moved towards her. Brock stopped next to her, sighing as he thought of something to say.

"Reba, I know you're scared, and to be honest, I am, too. I'm concerned for everyone, but especially you. I know you want everything to be like it was, but in order for that to happen...you have to let go of what Jeremy did. You can't be two people at one time. So, until that man is dead or behind bars...I'll be by your side every step of the way. Deal?" Brock kept his hands on his hips, waiting for her to make any move that told him what she was thinking. Reba felt the tears brim her eyes as she unfolded her arms, pushed away from the counter, and wrapped her arms around his waist. She nodded her head yes before burying her face in chest. Brock closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and pulled her closer to him with a sense of relief. Maybe she would start to let go, or maybe she would dive deeper into this desire to punish Jeremy. If he knew anything about this redhead, it was her protective nature over her family. No one was allowed to even suggest attacking her loved ones in any way, shape, or form. Reba closed her eyes, enjoying the sensation of safety brought on by Brock's arms wrapping around her. She knew he was there for her before, but now she believed he wouldn't leave her until everything was back to normal. Elizabeth watched her son and favorite redhead from the back door's window. They were a nice pair, fitting together perfectly in each way. Being able to remain friends through the toughest of life's challenges led Elizabeth to hope for their reuniting. It, in itself, just might be the miracle this family needed in order for the chaos to wither away. Smiling at the picture before her, Elizabeth left the two adults to relish in this special moment. Just maybe her son could live up to his promise this time. Lord knew everyone was counting on him.


	6. Chapter 5

**A/N: **Sorry this took so long to update. I had to re-write it a billion times. haha...I hope you like it.

Brock could feel Reba pressing her body closer and closer to his, almost like she wanted them to be one person. He knew she was having more trouble than she'd like to admit with moving on, and no matter how many times nor how hard they tried no one could convince her they would stay with her through it all. She hadn't needed to worry about Jeremy coming back, nor anything he had said coming true. It was all just words to hurt her more than he had before he left. Brock wished he knew where that man had run off to. It was killing him to see Reba like this, and nothing would feel better than knocking Jeremy around for a few hours. He closed his eyes, pushing the thoughts to the back of his mind. She was wanting to go back in time, back to the way everything was before Jeremy. Brock knew the chance, of anything being like it was, was very small, but as long as she wished for it, he would, too. He would do whatever it took for her to be happy and to feel safe again. Reba took a deep breath, taking in as much of his scent as she could. Why did everything have to fall apart now? She didn't want Cheyenne and Van moving out. At least, not this soon. She needed them all here, in her sight and reach, but at the same time, she understood why they were leaving. They had their own lives outside of the family. They deserved the time to make it something of their own. Just like her and Brock had done when they moved into their first little apartment. She sighed, never wanting to break their embrace, but she would have to eventually. They couldn't stay like this forever, could they? Brock felt her grip loosen a bit, and he took the opportunity to hold her out at arm's reach. The sorrow on her face when her arms finally fell to her sides broke his heart. And for a second he could read everything through her eyes, just like he had when they were madly in love and married. It was only for a second though. She had lowered her eyes, wrapping her arms around her chest. She appeared so tiny to Brock that he could feel her falling apart beneath his fingers. He cupped her left cheek with his right hand, pulling her face upwards to look at him. She was fighting harder than she had ever done before. She wasn't anywhere close to giving up, but finding the way out still floated high above her reach.

"Honey, will you be ok?" Brock asked with every word drowning in concern. Reba couldn't help but smile softly. He was trying so hard to help her and protect her, but it wasn't his job anymore. He was not the one to stand by her side and make her feel the world lifted off her shoulders. He was just her best friend, and that was all he could ever be now. She nodded her head, feeling his hand move against her cheek. Brock kept his concerned expression, but he nodded back at her. He would let it go for now. She would come around eventually. He would only need to wait a little longer. "Ok. Just remember...I'm here. I will always be here for you." Brock watched her for a minute. Her expression remained sad and blank. He hated this look. Nodding her head again, Reba pulled her face out of his hand and cleared her throat. She would need to start dinner soon. Her kids had to be starving. Brock watched as she maneuvered her way around the kitchen, lost to everything. She kept opening and closing cabinet doors, forgetting what she was searching for. She wouldn't be able to concentrate on dinner, and he knew neither would he. "Hey, let's make tonight a family night. Go out to eat and maybe go to a park or something?" He waited for her answer, noticing her eyes kept darting to the boxes in the corner of the room, still sitting on the counter. Her mind would not be with the family tonight. He already knew this, but he still prayed she'd forget long enough to enjoy her family.

"Uh, I guess that would be fine. Let's ask the kids." Reba waited for him to do or say anything. She wanted to destroy those boxes as she looked at every single item inside them. They were her only clues as to where he was, and she would find out sooner than later. Brock turned around to face the stairs, and slightly shook his head. She was not Reba right now. Tonight she would be the distant woman they had all seen more times than they cared for. She was lost for the night.

"KIDS! We're going out for dinner. Hurry up and meet us down here." Brock's voice shot through Reba's ears with a chilling shiver. She knew that tone. He was disappointed and frustrated, and the reason why rang through her head over and over. He could tell she wouldn't be herself tonight. The boxes and determination to find Jeremy clouded her mind, and there was nothing anyone could do about it. She sighed, feeling the world bear down on her shoulders more than it had ever done before. Everything was happening so fast. "Do you want to change? You've been wearing that for two days now." Reba's head shot up, and for once she was scared of the look on Brock's face. He said he would be there for her always, but at this moment she had lost him. He was letting go just a little bit. Reba took a deep breath, nodded her head, and walked upstairs without another look to Brock. He waited for her to disappear before moving to the boxes. He stared at them for awhile, disgust written across his face. She would rather spend her night with these things than with her family. Jeremy was driving her past the limit without even being around. He was long gone, and Brock just needed to find a way to show Reba. He grabbed the first stack of boxes, taking them out to his mother's garage. Reba would not stress out over whatever was held inside the small white office boxes with Jeremy Shelton written across the lid. He would not let her hurt herself anymore than she was with this whole determination to beat him. She needed to forget the fight and let it all go. Brock stopped at the kitchen door, wondering what had come over him. Was it really his place to do this? Did he have the right to take these away from her? Would it be smart on his part? It could be the one thing that pushed her completely away from him, and as much as he hated the state she was in tonight, he wouldn't be able to live without being by her side through all this. Brock set the boxes back down, and left the kitchen to make sure the family had heard him. It was not his place. He was only the best friend, if even that much.

Reba walked into the bedroom she shared with Brock and his mother. For the past two and a half months, she and Brock had shared the dresser while Elizabeth's clothes were hung in the closet. It felt slightly weird to her when she thought about sharing a bedroom with Brock again. The "this half is mine and that half is yours" but still having everything blend into an "it's our room" feeling was almost foreign to her now. She sighed as she opened her first drawer. It was empty except for an old shirt she used for cleaning the house and yard work. She closed it, opening the next one. She groaned in frustration, realizing Van hadn't done his chores this week. Running her hands through her hair, she looked in the floor length mirror. She could wear the dress again. It didn't really matter what she looked like. They'd probably just go out for pizza. She took a deep breath, walking towards the bedroom door. Pausing as an idea ran through her head, Reba looked over her shoulder to Brock's side of the dresser. He would have something to wear. He always had clean clothes. She went back to the dresser, opened his first drawer, and smiled from ear to ear. Resting on the top of his shirts was Brock's favorite royal blue button-up shirt. She pulled it out and placed it under her nose. It smelled just like him.

The family all waited in the living room for Reba, Barbra Jean, Brock, and Henry to finish getting ready. Van couldn't wait to go out. It had been weeks since they had all ate together. Of course, a home-cooked meal was made every night, but still no one ate in the same room. They all went their separate ways after making their plates .Van had sat at the kitchen table in hopes that someone would join him. Tonight would be a welcomed escape from that loneliness. He smiled as another wave of excitement shot through his body. Reba and Barbra Jean entered a minute later. They were giggling a little as they stopped behind the couches. "Y'all ready?" Barbra Jean asked as she noticed the whole family was there. Reba smiled, almost forgetting the boxes in the other room. She wanted to be excited about going out with her family, but the need to protect them was overwhelming at times. She couldn't fight it for long. Pushing the thoughts away, she focused on what Van was complaining about. He couldn't wait much longer. She chuckled at him, saying they could go ahead. She'd leave with Brock and Henry. Besides, someone needed to find all of them a table and order the pizza. She was starving. Van darted from the house faster than she thought possible. He was yelling for the rest of the family to hurry up as the car started. Cheyenne and both Elizabeths followed him out to his car, all shaking their heads when a loud 'yee haw' shot through the air. Kyra and Barbra Jean waited just a minute longer. Reba wondered if they could tell, too. She hoped not.

"Well, y'all should get going. You know how Van can't count when he's got food on the brain." Kyra smiled at her mother, grabbing her keys off the table. She said a sarcastic comment before telling Barbra Jean to hurry up. Barbra Jean waited at the door for a few seconds, running her eyes over the living room. She didn't want to forget anything like purses or wallets. Reba stopped her just as she was walking out the door. "Uh, Barbra Jean, I just wanted to thank you for..." Barbra Jean knew what she was going to say, but something held her back from interrupting. It wasn't that she knew Reba needed to say this, and it wasn't because she selfishly wanted to hear the words. Now was not the time for her to say anything. It wasn't even the time for her to think anything. It was just the redhead's words, a nod of the blonde's head, and then the silence as they each turned away from the other. This was a time for a quiet understanding of where they stood with each other. Barbra Jean listened as Reba opened her mouth again. "Uh, for being there when I needed you, and for understanding how much I needed to be a little crazy last night and this morning. I think it helped some." Barbra Jean gave her a small smile, tears welling up in her eyes, and nodded her head. Reba smiled back at her, clapping her hands together in front of her. The cue that the conversation had ended. Barbra Jean left the house, and Reba turned to sit down on the couch. Her mind seemed to bounce from one thought to another. She wondered how she was going to protect Van, Cheyenne, and their kids when they were on the other side of town. She thought of the perfect times when she could sneak back to her house to search for more of Jeremy's things. She even questioned the amount of time it took Brock and Henry to get ready. Really? She was the woman. Shouldn't she still be rushing to get ready? Just as she was standing up to go check on them, Brock and Henry walked into the room. Brock gave her a look of frustration, and she smiled sweetly back at him. Henry looked around the room and quickly ran outside.

"They left us! How rude! It's not my fault Daddy doesn't know how to do my hair! It's called gel!" Henry folded his arms across his chest, and stood with his back towards Brock and Reba. She chuckled to herself, and shook her head. Brock moved to the door, telling Henry he could wait in the car if he wanted. He and Reba would be out there shortly. They just needed to lock up. Henry glanced over his shoulder at Reba, almost not believing what his father was saying. When she nodded her head in agreement, Henry darted from the house just as fast as Van had. Brock stood up, finally getting the chance to look at Reba. She had her hair pulled back in a simple ponytail, his royal blue shirt on with the sleeves rolled up, and a pair of dark blue jean capri's. She smiled at him before bending over to pick up her purse. Brock was amazed at how well she could wear his shirt. Of course he had seen it on her several times before, but somehow this time was very different. Shaking himself back into reality, Brock cleared his throat.

"I'm sorry about earlier." Reba gave him a puzzled look, wondering what he was talking about. Taking a step closer to her, he continued. "I was upset. I thought you'd rather find Jeremy than be with your family. I should know better. I'm sorry for that. Forgive me, please?" Brock put on his best puppy dog eyes, making Reba smile and nod her head. Brock smiled back at her, reaching his hand out for hers. "You look gorgeous, by the way." Reba blushed slightly, feeling her heart skip a beat as she took his hand and allowed him to pull her closer.

"Of course I forgive you. You're a mo-ron." She gave him a smirk as his smile faultered a bit. "Thank you for the compliment. Now, we should get going before Henry comes back. He can be just like Barbra Jean sometimes." Brock nodded his head with a content grin placed on his lips. He walked with Reba out to the truck, waiting for her to lock the door behind them. Watching her, he noticed how she mouthed each step she was doing. Another precaution he assumed. When she turned to face him, she took his hand in hers again. Once they were in the truck, Henry already in the back and buckled up, Brock reached for her hand after she turned the radio up. She gave him a content stare before joining the song. Henry was completely oblivious to what was happening between his father and Reba as her voice placed him in a mesmerized spell. Brock was in the same boat as Henry, only further out at sea and in way over his head. His boat was sinking slowly. When had the waves of Reba taken him under again? Brock thought about this the rest of the night.

The night continued to go well, too. Cheyenne, Van, and Kyra had left the fight at the house, and now discussed music and real estate. Henry, Elizabeth, and Jake, who had been picked up by Brock and Reba, were all in the game room until the pizza came. Reba watched as he taught the younger ones the tricks to all the video games. She was proud of him. Brock and Barbra Jean were talking about some new television show that Reba really didn't care for much. Brock's mother sat next to her, watching the latest basketball game on the television above them on the other side of the room. Enjoying the happiness emanating from her family, Reba felt herself letting go slightly. She knew there was still that chance he would be back, but at this moment she wanted to believe he was gone for good. She could always look through the boxes when she got home. She didn't have to be at work until noon tomorrow anyways. Reba smiled as the pizza arrived and the kids rushed to the table from the game room. She forgot all about Jeremy and the boxes while she ate, and for the first time in weeks, laughed with everyone in the family. Their own personal space no longer a want as people leaned against one another for support when laughter tensed their stomachs to the point of pain or when people were smacked for stupid comments.

As the night drifted to a close and the family floated up the stairs for bed, Reba remembered the boxes and Jeremy. She took a deep breath, trying hard to keep it together as Brock told his last joke of the night. Laughing nervously when he chuckled, she moved to the refrigerator, waiting impatiently for him to go to bed like the rest had done. Brock sighed, feeling his muscles clench with tiredness. It was time for bed. Staying out until the restaurant literally kicked them out had brought everyone aches and sleepiness. Elizabeth, Henry, and Kyra had all fallen asleep on the way home. Van, Brock, and Barbra Jean were only able to stay awake long enough to get everyone home. Cheyenne and Brock's mother had a small conversation to keep themselves awake, and Reba sang the entire ride home. Brock had found it difficult to stay awake. Henry surrendered to her voice the instant she turned the radio on. Brock motioned to the stairs, yawning as he talked.

"I'm off to bed. You coming?" Reba shook her head, placing her water bottle on the counter. She pointed to the door.

"No, I need to lock up and check the house first. Then I have a few last minute things to do before I go to work tomorrow." Reba gave him a tired smile, forcing her eyes to stay away from the boxes long enough for Brock to go upstairs. He was exhuasted, and she knew he would pass out as soon as his head hit the pillow. He wouldn't notice if she was there or not. Brock nodded his head, rubbing his eyes as he walked towards the stairs. Reba waited for him to leave the room before rushing over to the boxes. She ran her hands over the first lid, an excited smile stretching across her lips. This was it. Her questions would be answered just as soon as she opened the box.

"Reba, what are you doing?" Brock's tired voice echoed through the kitchen as Reba's body froze. He was suppose to be in bed by now. Why did he come back down? She told him what she had to do. She did it every night. She wanted to look inside the boxes by herself. He couldn't be here. He needed to go back upstairs.

"I thought you were going to bed." Brock walked over to her side, sighing as he ran a hand through his hair. She just couldn't end the night peacefully, could she? Save the boxes for tomorrow? He wished she wouldn't even look inside. They couldn't hold anything good for her. She needed to hand them over to the police so things could be done the right way.

"As I was climbing the stairs, I remembered you have already locked and checked the house, and you don't have to be at work until noon tomorrow. I figured you would want a good night's sleep. Let's forget the boxes...end tonight on a good note." Reba scrunched her eyebrows together, shaking her head no. He may have been awake enough to find out she was lying to him, but he did not tell her what she needed. Only she knew that. Brock noticed her grip on the box tightened, and he sighed again. This was going to be a fight.

"Since when do you have the right to tell me what to do?" Brock thought for a moment. Did she really want to do this now? He was tired, and so was she. He could see it in her face. She'd fall asleep before she even got a good look inside.

"You could get hurt by looking at those. I don't want to see you hurt." Reba scoffed as she moved away from him and the boxes. She'd have to somehow convince him the boxes would be good for her. They held the answers. How could they not be good for her?

"I'm already hurt, Brock. And what makes you think I haven't looked inside already? I mean, Barbra Jean and I could have already looked." Brock stared at her for a few minutes. Reba felt a victory coming her way, but the way he stared at her made her nervous. Was he just tired or was he a little angry, too? He wasn't showing her anything. He just stared at her blankly. She swallowed the lump in her throat, and stood strong. She wasn't scared of him, and at that minute she remembered how annoyed she was. He wouldn't go away. "Didn't think of that, did ya?!" Reba's voice raised a little, but not enough to alert the rest of the family of their fighting. Brock took a step closer to her, his body blocking her quickest path to the boxes. He sighed, pushing away the tiredness as he forced his brain to work properly. He needed everything he had right now.

"Yes, I did think of that. Why? How? Because I know you, and that's exactly something you would do. That's also why I doubt you need to look back through them. If you think anything of importance, whether you've looked inside or not, to finding Jeremy is in there, then it would be better if the police went through them...don't you think? I'm sure they'd let you see what's inside." Brock prayed she'd agree with him, and decide to go to bed. He didn't want to fight with her right now. He didn't want her to stress over this anymore. He just wanted her to be happy, and at this moment, he felt that would never happen. He shook away his thoughts, reminding himself to stay possitive. She didn't need him thinking she couldn't do this. That would be a definate deal breaker. Reba stared back at him, shock evident on her face. Did he really think she could just hand everything over to the police? They didn't even take her serious when she told them about Anna.

"Oh, they don't care, Brock. They think he's long gone and never coming back. Everyone seems to think that, and that's just what he wants. Jeremy is playing a game, Brock, and I'm not gonna let him win. You're just gonna have to accept that." Reba took a deep, nervous breath. She didn't know how he would respond now. Brock thought for a second, trying hard to keep his words reasonable. He didn't want to start yelling at her. They could never solve anything when they screamed at each other.

"I did accept it until you threw me outta the loop. Those few hours you were missing, I couldn't help but feel I'd never be sane again." Brock stopped talking, letting his eyes rest on her. Reba stood still, complete shock washing over her. She hadn't paused long enough to think of what he could have been going through. Brock sighed, taking a step back to lean against the counter. He hadn't meant to tell her that. He just wanted to keep her safe and away from the contents of the boxes. Yes, he had felt that way, and he did believe she needed to know how serious last night had been for him. He was worried to death and back about her. Maybe with this statement she would realize how important she was to him, and take a break from her so called game. Reba stared at him a little longer, not quite finished with wrapping her head around his words. He had been so worried, and all she could think of last night was finding Jeremy. She never thought twice about what Brock was going through. At least, she didn't think she thought about him. She couldn't remember a thing. She sighed, looking down to her hands ashamed of herself. She lifted her head, walked over to Brock slowly, and wrapped her arms around his middle. Brock closed his eyes, sighing deeply as he wrapped his arms around her.

"I had no idea you felt like that, Brock. I should have known better. I'm so so sorry." At this point, Reba had tears streaming down her cheeks, and she clung to Brock for dear life. She never wanted him to feel that way again, but what could she do? He couldn't be with her all the time. Even if he could be with her, he'd only try to convince her to stay away from Jeremy, and no matter how hard she tried she knew she wouldn't be able to do that. She had to gain control before Jeremy returned. She just knew Brock wouldn't be on the same page as her. She swallowed the lump in her throat, his words echoing through her mind again. He tried to pull her out to arms length so they could talk, but Reba only pressed herself closer to him. "Maybe we shouldn't talk about it right now. I don't know if I can take it." Brock nodded his head, despite the fact she couldn't see him. He took a deep breath, allowing her scent to fill his nose. He wrapped his arms back around her, trying hard to keep from telling her the biggest secret he had. She didn't want to talk about it at the moment, and he would respect that. But they would talk about what she was going to do with the boxes. He would not let this subject go so easily.

"Will you take them to the station?" Reba's body tensed, and she pulled away slightly. She wasn't expecting him to bring that subject back up. She didn't know what to do now. If she stayed downstairs, he wouldn't believe how bad she felt for her actions last night. He would never believe her again, and she needed him on her side. If she went upstairs, would he believe she really wanted to go? Reba took a deep breath, accepting he wouldn't believe her either way. She might as well do what she wanted to do.

"What?" Brock let her go as she stepped away from him. Reba wiped quickly at her cheeks, gaining her composure. She didn't need anyone coming downstairs to find her looking like this. Brock folded his arms in front of his chest like he had before. He waited for her to answer him. He knew she had heard him. Reba kept her back to him as she walked around the kitchen.

"What are you going to do with the boxes?" Reba remained silent as she thought of what to tell him. She had to tell him the truth. He deserved at least that after what she put him through the night before. She took a deep breath, biting her bottom lip. She hoped he wouldn't be mad at her. "Reba? I'd really like to know." Brock dropped his arms, walked over to her, and spun her around to look at him. She had quiet tears slipping down her cheeks, and Brock pulled her closer. Reba took a deep breath, letting him hold her a little longer. She didn't want to tell him everything, but how could she not after what he told her? Maybe she needed a side kick. She pushed away from him, sitting down at the table. She let her hands rest on top of the table and played with her fingers until he sat in the chair next to her. She lifted her eyes after a moment's silence.

"I know you really don't want me to, but I have to. I'm gonna look through those boxes before I do anything else. Yeah, the police may be the best way to go right now, but I can't do that. To be honest, nothing can stop me from looking through them, finding Jeremy, and hunting him down." Reba's tone was level and determined. She felt just a little weight lifted from her shoulders, and she didn't feel so alone anymore. Brock nodded his head, taking her hand into his. He stared into her eyes for a minute. "I'm sorry, Brock. I really want you there...I just don't think it'd be a good idea. I should do this on my own. You just gotta know that I might disappear some times. I really don't want to put you through that again, but it might happen." Reba looked down to their hands, taking a deep breath. She waited impatiently for his response. She was nervous of what he would say to her. Brock lowered his eyes as well, knowing she was telling him the truth. She didn't want to hurt him anymore, but she couldn't help it. She was obsessed with this goal. She would accomplish it whether he stayed by her side or not. He would much rather be there. He sighed, patting her hand to get her attention.

Anna rolled her eyes as she listened to her brother talk again. She couldn't believe he had called her so late. He was mad she had bought this house, and had been yelling at her for it since she finished dinner four hours ago. She now had him on speaker phone as she did her nightly stretches. She could hear the people at the local bar screaming in the back ground, and tried to focus on them instead of Jeremy. He could be so judgmental at times. Of course, he should be mad. She disobeyed his orders. Anna rolled her eyes, glancing at the phone. It rested on the arm of her couch, speakers turned away from her. Even with the phone placed like it was, she could still hear him perfectly. She really wanted to hang up on him, but that would only make him angrier. Anna stood up, took a deep breath, and placed the phone to her ear.

"Jeremy! I know you told me not to, but I was not gonna stay in a hotel the whole time I'm suppose to be here. Ok. She didn't even notice who I was. She just sold me the house then left. That's all that happened. I didn't tell her anything about me or the family. Everything is just fine." Anna rolled her eyes again as he yelled at her some more. She put the phone back where it was and walked into the kitchen. She smiled as the sound of his voice drifted away. She knew she loved this kitchen. She grabbed her house phone, calling her husband. He should be awake by now. He was always an early bird even though he didn't have to be at work until eight. She sighed, listening to his hoarse voice answer the phone.

"Mornin' Sleepy. I thought you would be up by now." Anna listened as he moved around the house.

"I am. I was just brushing my teeth. Why aren't you in bed? Isn't it like eleven over there?" Anna smiled at his concern. She was glad he wasn't out with her brother. She needed someone to talk to right now.

"Well, yeah, but Jeremy is yelling at me through my cell phone. I seriously can't wait for it to go dead. You haven't given him my new number, have you?" She heard a faint chuckle then a 'hell no' as Kyle left the bathroom. She knew he wouldn't have done that. The men hardly talked as it was. He probably had no clue where Jeremy was. Her husband had a serious dislike for her brother. Jeremy, on the other hand, had never really shown any emotion towards Kyle. She shrugged her shoulders as she grabbed a pad of paper and a pen to draw with. She started outlining a beautiful dress. "Ok. Good. I swear, that man treats me like I'm still seven. How have you two been getting along?" She could almost see the eye roll as the silence on the phone lasted a few more seconds.

"It's great when he's not here. He barely talks to me, and when he does it's always about you. Sometimes I wonder if he's obsessed with you. You give him way too much." Anna heard the beep from Kyle's cell phone, signaling he had placed her on speaker phone. He was getting dressed. "I think you should come home, and tell him to deal with his girlfriend himself. She can't be that crazy. Jeremy's been gone for two months now." Anna thought about Reba. She didn't seem crazy at all, maybe a little jumpy and on edge, but not crazy. She set her pen down for a moment, looking at Reba's business card still hanging on her refrigerator. If she had to be honest, which she tried to be all the time, Jeremy seemed more like the crazy stalker. Anna sighed again, realizing Kyle was waiting for her to say something.

"You know, Honey, I'm almost thinking the same thing. It's just...I love Houston so much. And I feel at home here. I think I need to stay a little longer. There's something going on between Jeremy and Reba. Something he's not telling me, and I want to figure out what it is." Anna finished her dress, pulling the sheet of paper off the notepad. She walked quickly through her living room, pausing only for a second to make sure Jeremy hadn't asked her a question. Apparently, he hadn't. He was still yelling about some incident where his ex-girlfriend had nearly killed him. She rolled her eyes, thinking Reba was too small to over power Jeremy. He was taller and bigger than Reba. He could have easily gotten away from her. Anna walked into her bedroom, stopping in front of her bookcase. Kyle still hadn't said anything, and she knew it either meant he was deep in thought or wasn't liking what she had to say. Clearing her throat, Anna pulled out a bright green folder. "Kyle, what do you think? I want you to be honest, too." She heard a stressed breath come from the other end and frowned to herself. He didn't know what to think.

"Anna, Sweetie, I just want you to be safe. I know you like solving mysteries and helping people, but maybe you should sit this one out. I don't trust you brother much more than I can a computer virus. And, maybe this girl he was seeing is crazy. She could come after you. I don't want anything to happen to you." Anna smiled sweetly at him, knowing he was pouring his second cup of coffee. His morning routine was so predictable.

"I'm having a hard time believing Reba is crazy. I don't know why, but I normally can sense these things." Anna placed her drawing in one of the pockets and placed the folder back on her bookself. She walked into the living room, rolling her eyes as Jeremy was still yelling. She moved to the front porch, staring towards the dark sky. The stars were shining brightly.

"Anna, you always say that. You know how I feel about you going off of gut feelings instead of the facts. You know nothing about this woman." Anna stopped him there. She knew tons about this woman. Her ex-husband could talk about her for hours.

"Yes, I do. She's been married and divorced. She has three children and two grandkids; and sells houses for a living. She donates to charities every chance she can get. From what I've seen, she's a little jumpy at times, but I think that could just be nerves. Her ex-husband says she smart, sarcastic, sweet, loving, a little short-tempered at times...I mean, right now, I think I know more about her than I do about Jeremy. Something is going on, Kyle, and I cannot sit this one out. If it would make you feel better then come visit me. Maybe see the new house? I know you'll just love it!" Anna rocked on the porch swing, listening to the quietness around her. She missed Houston so much. The only thing that would keep her from staying would be her husband, but he had always loved Houston when they were in high school. She could easily convince him to move back here.

"Just don't get hurt, or stick your nose somewhere it doesn't belong....And I just might come to see you. I miss having you here. You're pictures can only last me so long." He chuckled just a bit as Anna pictured him sitting down with a bowl of cereal. He didn't like breakfast foods at all. She sighed again, wishing he could pull into her driveway as a big surprise. The sound of Kyle eating brought Anna back into the conversation. She hated when she could hear him chew. "You want me to call you back after I eat?" Kyle asked before she could even open her mouth. With a qucik yes, Anna hung up the phone. He could be eating gummy bears and still she would be able to hear him. She shook it off as she decided she needed to finish her conversation with Jeremy. He was such a weird man. She picked up her cell phone, interrupting him again.

"Jeremy, it's late. I'm tired, and I have work in the morning. Please, let me go to bed." Jeremy seemed to calm down, quickly apologizing for keeping her up so late. They talked a few minutes longer, mostly Jeremy trying to make up for yelling at her. She was glad that her house phone started to ring just as she hung up her cell. Kyle always had perfect timing. She smiled as she carried the phone back to her bedroom.


	7. Chapter 6

**AN: Sorry this took so long to update. I just wanted it to be perfect. :) Please enjoy it and tell me what you think! I'll try to hurry with the next chapter. Thanks for reading it. Oh, you might need to read over at least the first half of the last chapter. :) **

_"I'm sorry, Brock. I really want you there...I just don't think it'd be a good idea. I should do this on my own. You just gotta know that I might disappear some times. I really don't want to put you through that again, but it might happen." Reba looked down to their hands, taking a deep breath. She waited impatiently for his response. She was nervous of what he would say to her. Brock lowered his eyes as well, knowing she was telling him the truth. She didn't want to hurt him anymore, but she couldn't help it. She was obsessed with this goal. She would accomplish it whether he stayed by her side or not. He would much rather be there. He sighed, patting her hand to get her attention._

"Ok. I understand what you're saying." Brock paused, biting his bottom lip. If he said what he needed to say, would she think he was being selfish? Would she think he didn't truly care for her? Would she start raising her voice again? Brock decided to be open and honest with her. He already lost her once for holding back. This time he would learn from his mistakes. "I would still like it if maybe...we could have a way for you to tell me when your disappearing...like you text me. I promise I won't text back or even bother you. I just need to know, Reba. I would hate to have you hurt and think it's just another..." Brock stopped when he felt her hand pull out from between his hands. She was smiling sweetly at him, and rested one hand under her chin. He swallowed, feeling just a tiny bit better. He hadn't explained it in a way he would have wanted, but he figured she understood all the same.

"I think a text would be ok. What do you want me to say? M.I.A.? Gone for awhile? That way you'll know." Reba watched him with her eyes slightly closed. She was tired, but this was important. They were talking, and she loved talking with Brock. He nodded his head, running a hand over his face before resting his cheek in it. Reba chuckled softly, realizing just how tired they both were. "So, the boxes?" Brock's eyes opened just a bit wider, and he moved his stare from her to the kitchen counter. He took a deep breath, sitting up a little straighter.

"I don't want you looking through them here or anywhere else the kids could get involve." Reba sat up completely, nodding her head and stopping Brock. She hadn't really planned on opening them here. She really didn't know what she was doing earlier. Had she momentarily forgotten her family? She leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms across her chest. She didn't like the chill that just ran down her body. It couldn't mean anything good.

"I wasn't going to do that. I wouldn't want to hurt the kids any more than I already have." Brock mimicked her position, watching her for a moment. She was back for now. He was talking to his Reba again. She held that same spunk and sassiness that she had before. He missed it more than he thought. Reba looked over to him, giving him a small smile. He nodded his head, clearing his throat.

"Uh, then why bring them here?" He stared at the table cloth, regretting the words the instant they left his mouth. He was going to ruin this moment. Why did he say that? It made sense to him, but would it to her? Could he afford to step on her toes during this little dance? He dared a quick glance, and sighed in relief when he noticed her eyes looking away from him. Maybe he hadn't crossed the line. Reba thought quickly. Why had she brought the boxes here if she didn't want the kids involved any more than what they already were? She couldn't find an answer that would make sense to Brock. He wouldn't understand the thoughts and feelings she was having. He would never fully get what she had been through. She took a deep breath, realizing this conversation could go down the wrong path, and she truly did not want that to happen. She thought a little harder, reminding herself to keep her answer light and goofy. This night needed to end on a good note as Brock had mentioned earlier.

"Barbra Jean." Reba nodded her head shortly. That was the answer to all her crazy problems. If she couldn't think of a logical excuse, Barbra Jean was always a good cover. Brock scrunched his eyebrows together, asking a quiet 'what'. Reba leaned onto the table, and stared at him with a serious look. "Yep. It's her fault. She forced me to get drunk, and that's all I'm gonna say about it." She smacked the table softly, giving him a joking smile. Brock shook his head as he chuckled a little. She had her sense of humor back. At least he hoped she did. Everyone was tired of walking on eggshells, even Reba. Hopefully, she was taking another step to recovery.

"So, after you slept off your hangover, it was all her insisting to bring the boxes back that made you do it?" Brock watched as Reba pretended to lock her lips and throw the key away. He quickly jumped to his feet searching the area around her. She gave him a questioning look when he glanced at her. "What? I need that key. It's the only way for you to talk again. I can't go without hearing your voice and having a decent conversation, Sweet Heart. I..." Brock trailed off, and stopped what he was doing. He stared at her as she rested her chin on her arm that balanced on the back of the chair. She was watching him through slightly closed eyes, and he knew she was waiting on him to finish what he was going to say. He couldn't though. He was just the best friend. Brock smiled at her, reaching into his pocket, and held his hand out towards her. She lifted her head, and reached her hand, palm upwards, towards him. She watched, confused, as he pretended to place something in her hand. He wrapped his left hand under her hand, gently making it close around his. "It's ok though, I have the hide-away." He leaned down a little, inches away from her. She smiled tiredly at him with just a hint of tears in her blue eyes. He smiled back before kissing her cheek and pulling away. Brock made his way to the stairs before she called out to him. He stopped, but didn't turn around. His heart skipped a beat when the lights shut off, and she fumbled around until she found him. Grabbing his hand with hers, she led him up the stairs to the bedroom.

They slowly opened the door, careful of making any noises. Brock took his hand from Reba to check on his mother, who insisted on sleeping in the extra twin bed they brought from the attic into the room. She claimed she had slept by herself for too long, and having either one of them next to her in the bed would disturb her sleep. Brock hadn't minded, but he worried about his mother still. She wasn't in the best of beds. It was his sister's old bed from when she was a little girl, and he knew it had to be uncomfortable at times. Reba, on the other hand, thought she was putting her out more with the sleeping arrangements, but Elizabeth had assured her it was fine. It would be easier for Brock and Reba to get used to sleeping with someone else in the bed than it would be for her. She had been alone a lot longer than both of them put together. Reba smiled as she stood next to Brock. He pulled the blanket upwards to his mother's neck, and checked the alarm clock to make sure it was set at the right time to wake him up. He turned the screen away from Elizabeth, not wanting the bright red numbers to bother her sleep. He gave her a kiss on the forehead, moving the hair from her eyes. Reba watched him from a few steps away. She loved when he took care of his family. He knew just how to do everything. Brock smiled at her as he turned around and motioned to the bed. Reba nodded her head, and quickly grabbed a pair of sweat pants from the laundry basket by the door. She couldn't believe she had missed it earlier when she had needed a change of clothes. She must have really been out of it. Brock pulled the blankets back as he waited for the redhead to change. He turned the fan on the lowest it would go, and set Reba's radio closer to the bed. He switched it on, raising the volume slightly. He glanced at his mother as Reba stepped out of the bathroom. They both climbed into the bed, backs lying flat on the mattress and eyes staring at the ceiling. Reba opened her mouth to say something, but decided against it quickly. She rolled onto her left side, her back facing Brock, and sighed to herself. He was just her best friend after all. Brock closed his eyes and bit his bottom lip. He was going to go for it tonight. He knew what she wanted to ask, and as he rolled over onto his left side, he prayed she wouldn't mind. He wrapped an arm, outside the blanket, around her waist and smiled when he felt her move her back to his chest.

"I...Goodnight, Reba." He had almost said it again. What was wrong with him? She didn't need him to mess things up again. She just needed a friend. Someone he would always be, and he planned on that.

"...goodnight, too." Reba closed her eyes, and fell asleep instantly. Brock stayed up just a little longer, wanting to soak up as much of this moment as he could. She was everything, and with that thought in mind, Brock drifted into sleep.

Reba awoke the next morning with a note taped to her forehead. She pulled it off and smiled at the words. It was from Brock, and he simply wanted to tell her she looked beautiful this morning. She set it on the nightstand, turned her radio off, and got ready for her day. While she was in the shower, she remembered today she would be alone. Everyone else was busy. Brock, Van, and Barbra Jean were at work. Cheyenne and little Bryan were out with her friends shopping. Jake was with Kyra and her band as they set up and practiced for their gig tonight. Henry and Elizabeth were both at friends' houses for play dates. Brock's mother was staying at home today, and Reba, herself, had the day to look through the boxes. She quickly finished taking a shower, changed into a pair of sweats, and dashed downstairs into the kitchen. With Elizabeth in the living room, Reba flipped the lid off the first box. As she searched through it, disappointment washed over her. Inside were only old receipts from years before she met him. She took a deep breath, reminding herself she still had four more to go through. She quickly tossed the box to the floor, looked through the next one, and tossed it beside the first one. Three more to go. She looked over her shoulder when she heard the television shut off. Elizabeth could hear the noise Reba was making, and made her way into the kitchen. Reba darted from the house with all three boxes in her arms. She tripped several times, but never dropped any of them. Quickly climbing into her car, she set the boxes in the passenger seat, and pulled out of the driveway just as Elizabeth stepped out of the house. Reba laughed slightly as she stepped a little harder on the gas pedal. She had promised Brock she wouldn't look through them around the kids, and she knew Elizabeth would rat her out faster than she could explain it to him. She didn't know what she was doing anymore. All she knew was Jeremy had to be found. She needed to know where he was, and she guessed it was turning into an obsession. Something tearing her away from those she loved. Reba shook her head as she pulled onto the freeway. She couldn't think like that anymore. She needed to stay focused. This would not tear her away from her family. She was protecting them. Reba turned the radio up loud, drowning out her thoughts. She sped all the way to her house, completely glad she wasn't pulled over. Her mind was reeling as she burst through her front door with the boxes in her hands. She set them on the coffee table, taking a deep breath and praying she would find something. Reba closed her eyes as she opened the third box. When she opened it, her heart raced and her breathing became difficult. Inside the box sat black and white composition notebooks. Praying they would help her, she pulled one out and read the date at the top of the first page.

_October 15, 2007_

_Two weeks. The doll has been here two weeks, and the old man won't shut his idiotic mouth about her. "She's perfect for this business. She'd be better than you, Son! You should learn a thing or two from her because we both know you haven't done much with your life." That stupid old man. _

_The doll's getting in my way. Time to break her._

Reba swallowed the lump in her throat, wondering if he was talking about her. She couldn't remember meeting him or even seeing him in October. And who was the old man? He had said son. Maybe it was his father, but who was that? Reba swallowed again, and flipped a few pages. She had to read more. Before she started again, she settled back into the couch, folding her legs beside her.

_October 23, 2007_

_The old man's little doll got him that house. Sold it to him in under a month, and now he wants to send flowers. Nothing better to spend my money on, but that's fine. I'll just offer to send the flowers, and get exactly what I need to move to the next step. The doll has no clue what a ride she's in for. _

_October 24, 2007_

_Ah, got her work address and cell number. Now, tomorrow I'll start learning her habits. Her driving routes, usual lunch spots, home routine...everything. Family won't be a problem at all, that I can easily take care of. _

Reba closed the journal, holding her place with her finger, and unblinkingly stared in shock at her lap. The realization that he was writing about her sunk in more and more with each passing second. She licked her lips, her head spinning with different thoughts. She couldn't remember who had bought houses a month ago, let alone a year ago. With an idea in mind, Reba tossed the journal to the coffee table, and rushed out to her garage office where she kept most of her files. There had to be something. She searched through her file cabinet until she reached October of 2007, pulling it out quickly. She raced back inside, opening the folder as she threw herself back onto the couch. She ran her eyes over the papers inside, looking for anything of significance. Her heart raced, her hands felt clamy, and her breathing was difficult. For once, she was able to keep her senses, and she was thankful for that. She flipped through the pages until she found the date she wanted. It had been the only house that day.

"Edward Clayton." She read the name aloud, forcing the man's face to recollect in her mind. The heavy bags under his green eyes, the thin lips and high cheek bones. His hair had been gray at the roots throughout the rest of his black hair. He was well built and tall. His suit had been traded in for a nice pair of blue jeans and a dress shirt. He had just spent the day at a charity event. Reba took a deep breath, reminding herself to stay calm. She needed this information. She closed her eyes, and pictured his office. Dark in lighting, black office chair, big wooden desk. The room held books of all kinds, and she remembered reading over the titles as she waited for him to arrive. He had laughed big, and asked if she'd like to sit down. She had been slightly startled as she was lost in her own world walking around his office.

_"Mr. Shelton..." Reba had started, but was interupted quickly by the older man. He smiled sweetly at her as she sat down before correcting her reasonable mistake. _

_"It's Clayton now. Never did like the name Shelton. Isn't good for business so; I had it changed. I must've forgotten to change it on the house papers. My apologies__.__" He waited, with a handsome smile, for her to continue, and Reba quickly started again. This time he only interrupted to answer her questions or to give his input on the subject. _

Reba set her papers to the side, keeping them at a safe distance from the boxes. She couldn't afford to get the papers mixed up at the moment. She stared at the table, her eyes jumping from one item on it to the next. She had sold his father a house. Jeremy had known her much longer than she had thought. Was he mad because she was good at her job? Was all this because his father seemed to like her more? Reba swallowed the lump in her throat, afraid of the answers. She couldn't believe she hadn't noticed Jeremy. This was starting to break her calm, but she still needed to read more. Reba picked the journal back up, trying to remain as relaxed and sensible as possible. It was proving to be a difficult task.

_November 14, 2007_

_This just might be easier than I had thought. The doll is so naive. How can she not tell what this man...Todd, I believe..wants from her? He's practically spelled it out for her. Oh, I'm going to have tons of fun with winning this game. The old man will learn soon enough. The doll will learn her place, too. She will know not to get in my way. _

_Look at her face! She's so shocked! Oh, the precious has a dirty mouth. Hmm...That is entertaining. Might have to stick around a little longer. That's right, My Dear. Storm out of the motel. He's learned his lesson. Ugh, I guess I'll have to help her out. She obviously has no idea on how to get rid of someone. Oh, Todd..._

_Thanksgiving, 2007_

_Vacationing with Dad. I know he sees how well I've stayed at his standards. It hasn't been all that hard either. He needs to raise them. Give me a little challenge. _

_I wonder what that doll is up to. She better enjoy her happiness while it lasts. I plan on stirring the pot a little when I get back. She's boring me lately. The same old thing day in and day out. _

Reba set the journal down again, reading just about enough. She thought of the video he sent her. He had mentioned Todd in that, too. He was there all the time. She wasn't ever alone. This thought sent her into pacing behind the couch. Her hands runing through her hair in a mad race, her bottom lip trembling uncontrollably, her mind rethinking everything she had done in the past year, and her heart beating faster than she thought possible. She needed to calm down if she didn't want to end up in the hospital. Her high blood pressure hadn't been at its best lately, and she knew exactly why, too. Reba took a deep breath, but it failed to help. Why was he doing this? She just couldn't understand that. Yeah, his dad made a few comments about her, but was that really a reason to mess with her like he had? Did he even have to take it as far as he had? What was wrong with him? Reba bit her fingernail, staring at the opened journal on her coffee table. She couldn't stop reading there. No matter how disturbing he got, she would have to finish every single entry. She darted back to the couch, and hesitantly reached for the notebook.

_December 15, 2007_

_Her office certainly knows how to party. Every single one of them drunk out of their minds. Well, most anyways. No one's going to remember a thing in the morning. The doll wasn't hard to spot either. Sitting at a table near the enterance with a couple of jello shots and a bottle of tequila. She was already tipsy when I found her. I waited for her friends to leave the table for more of their own drinks before I sat down next to her. She just laughed a little and started a conversation. I was there to spice it up some, not talk. The doll is clueless. It's almost sickening at times. All I had to do was say some one was looking for her, and she turned her head to look through the crowd. So so easy to drug her then. After watching her take a few shots, I left the building to wait outside. No one even noticed I was there. _

_Now, I'm sitting about two houses down from her house. Her family's still up. I can't risk being spotted even though I know they're all idiots. Probably just think I was some co-worker. Stupid, stupid people. Yes, that's right. Turn the lights off, go to bed. She's not coming home for another thirty minutes...at the least. Save questions for the morning. If she feels like waking up. _

Reba shut the journal once again. She felt her mind racing twice as fast as before. She had to close her eyes and take deep breaths, her blood pressure a sudden importance. That night had been a blur the next morning, but she had chalked it up to the alcohol. She never thought someone could have been watching her or trying to hurt her. She couldn't believe he had been so close. He had her in a very vulnerable place, and could have done anything he had wanted to her. There would have been nothing she could have done to stop it either. How could she have been so stupid? Why didn't she notice him? There was no way he was that sneaky. Was she really that easy to know? He knew everything about her without ever talking to her. It was all so eye-opening. He had done so much to her way before she had even known about him. His father had never mentioned having a son, or if he had, she couldn't remember. She was playing this game with a monster. He was way ahead of her. Reba sighed, the past year flashing before her eyes. Jeremy had been there. He had been apart of everything, and she had to wondered if he was there now. He had done so much before without her knowing. Could he be doing the same thing now? Reba glanced over both her shoulders, deciding she should check the house to be sure. No one knew where she was, and if something were to happen to her, it would be up to her to get away, to save herself. She took a deep breath, searching the house for a ghost. When she finished, the journals seemed to mock her, forcing her to come back to them. She had to know what else he had done. She had to finish playing with the dark pawns on his side. It was the first step in getting to the king, and she couldn't wait to call out 'checkmate'. Reba grabbed the next journal, ready to get the day over with. Knowing she was not prepared for what she would read next, she took a deep breath, and let the words fill her head anyway.

Van whistled as he walked into his former office, smiling at passing friends. He had missed this place for the first few weeks, but after he got settled and sold his first house, this became his past. Nothing here made him want to come back. The fast paced atmosphere had bother him the entire time he worked here, and he knew it was just perfect for his mother-in-law until they found out she had high blood pressure. Van had forced her to take it slow while he worked with her, doing most of the work himself, but when he left she was stuck with all the work. He sighed to himself. It was the only negative thing about leaving this place. He wasn't able to look after her as well as he would like. Van walked to her desk, searching it for her purse or any other sign she was there. Van, smiling for whoever it was, turned when his name was called from behind him.

"Van Montgomery! How have you been? And Cheyenne?" Van shoved his hands into his jacket pocket, sitting down on his mother-in-law's desk. He had time to chat, he guessed. Nothing else to do for the day.

"Well, we're both doing as fine as we can with a new baby." He nodded his head at the girlish squeal. Cathy quickly congratulated him, patted her stomach, and told him her great news. Van returned the congratulations, and pulled her into a friendly hug. "Yeah, you and Caleb should come over for dinner sometime. Maybe our kids could grow up together." Van laughed as he watched her squeal again. He remembered Cheyenne always did want to invite another young couple over, and he figured with them moving back in it would be the best gift. As Mr. Jones walked past them on his way to his office, Van and Cathy both pretended to be working on something.

"Man, he still makes you jump after all this time?" Cathy shook her head with a playful smile, sipping from her juice. Van nodded his head, making sure the coast was clear. "Yeah, you should see Reba...Well, before her...What happened? She doesn't really talk to anyone around here about it. Just says it was a family emergency." Van stood up, suddenly not comfortable with this conversation. He cleared his throat.

"You don't think she was lying, do you?" Cathy, not noticing the tone of his voice, nodded her head. She, along with everyone else, noticed the bruises and unusal behavoir. It hadn't seen much like a family emergency to them at all. Van pressed his lips together until they made a thin line. "Well, it was so; it'd be best if all of y'all left it at that, ok?" Van was staring Cathy straight in the eyes, but he knew everyone in hearing distance was paying attention. Cathy took a step back, tucking a strand of her brown curls behind her ear. She hadn't meant to cross the line. Van rolled his eyes as he turned away from her. They were all stupid. Now, he was determined to get his mother-in-law a better job. Maybe he could finally talk Mr. Norris into hiring her. Maybe they could be partners again. Van fixed the items on Reba's desk before heading for the door. He was tired of being here, and it was obvious that Reba wasn't there. As Van passed Mr. Jones' office, the man, himself, stuck his head out.

"Van?!" The irrated young man stopped, but didn't turn around. He wasn't in the mood to mess with this man. They never had been on good terms. "What are you doing here? Do you know where that mother-in-law of yours is? She's extremely late!" Mr. Jones met Van in the middle of the building, both evidently not enjoying the day at the moment.

"No, sir. I thought MRS. H was here. Plus, I'm sure there's a reason she's late. Have you tried calling her?" Mr. Jones took a deep breath, trying to remain as calm as he possibly could. Van shook his head, pulling out his cell phone. Did this man really think he was something to be scared of? Van rolled his eyes as he took a few steps away from the red faced boss. "Mrs. H, where are you? I thought you had work today, and I stopped by to take you to lunch. But, uh, you're not here. Apparently, you haven't been here all day. Please call me back.." Van looked over his shoulder, lowering his voice. "Before I hurt your boss." Van hung up his phone, shrugging his shoulders as he turned to leave. Mr. Jones followed him with quick, confindent steps.

"When you see her tell her she's fired! I will not have this! She hasn't been up to standards lately." Van stopped at this, turned around, and put his face inches from Reba's boss. Mr. Jones stood his ground, not one to be easily intimated.

"Excuse me?" Van pulled back just a little, but still kept the same look and posture. He was not in the mood for any more people to talk about his mother-in-law. She had been working hard from the day he met her. She was brillant, and deserved so much more than what these idiots were giving her. He cleared his throat, waiting for his ex-boss to speak.

"That's right, Van. You know the rules around here. She's only sold one house in the past month, she's been late almost every day, and she just missed a very important, rich cilent. Her attitude and behavior have not been up to standards. I'm afraid I'm gonna have to let her go." Mr. Jones crossed his arms, a sick smile stretched across his face. He hated to do this, but it was only fair. He had let plenty of people go for the same reasons. He could not play favorites. "Plus, she's been very different lately. I believe that's got something to do with _a family emergency_. It's taking away from her performance on the job. She's no longer a valued employee." At this moment Nathan, Cathy, Tammy, and a few other workers had circled around the two men. Van was shocked for only a second before he gave the older man the same sick smile. He crossed his arms in front of his chest as well, waiting a moment longer. He wanted the man to think he had won only for it to be ripped away from him.

"When has Mrs. H ever not worked her butt off for this lousy company? When have you ever given her a break? If you even mention one time then you're a liar. She has done more for you, this company, and this entire business than you could ever dream of doing. So, you be a little stupid monkey's butt." Van paused, glancing around him quickly. He started to leave, but felt he still had more to say. He had a lot more to say. "You know, she thought of you as a great guy, but you're not. Just another pathetic man. She deserves so much better than this, and trust me...she will be the best damn realator out there. Her face will be every where....And I'll make sure of it, too. That way you'll know what an idiot you truly are!" Van stood up as striaght as he could, uncrossed his arms, and smiled as he spoke. "So, in the words of Mrs. H, you can take this job and _shove it._" Van sang the last two words, ignoring the urge to give the man a bloody nose. It would be so easy to do, but right now he had better things to worry about. Better people to spend his time on and to waist his breath with. Van immediatly left the building, ignoring the comments coming from Mr. Jones.

"That was so unprofessional." Tammy was the first to speak up as they all watched Van leave. "You should have told Reba yourself. Her being fired is none of his business." Tammy stood with her hands on her hips, feeling sorry for Reba and her family. They were a great bunch of people. She glanced over her shoulder at Cathy and Nathan before they all went their seperate ways. Mr. Jones uncrossed his arms, giving everyone a death glare. He stormed back to his office.

Van climbed into his truck, slamming the door behind him. He pulled his cell phone out, taking deep calming breaths. "Mr. H, have you heard from Mrs. H?...No, I was just gonna take her to lunch. Nothing's wrong....Yeah, she's probably just at an open house or something....Ok. Yeah, I will. Bye." Van hung up his phone, closing his eyes as he thought. Cheyenne said she wasn't at the house when she got back from shopping. Her co-workers said she hadn't come in to work today, and apparently she wasn't with his father-in-law either. Where could she be? She wouldn't have gone to Barbra Jean's work, would she? He quickly sent the blonde a text, waiting on her response. It came back as a no. He pulled out of his parking space, thinking he might as well check her house. It was on his way back to his office anyways.


	8. Chapter 7

A/N: So, so sorry about that wait. I know I say that every time, but I do mean it. I started my senior year of high school about two weeks ago so my updates might take a while, but you're probably thinking that's nothing new. And once again I'm so sorry about that. Well, I hope you like it. Please, let me know what you think! :) Oh, I'm using a new program to write this with so, if it's messed up I'm sorry. I'll try to catch it and get it fixed. If that made any sense. lol.

Van flew into the house and spun around to shut the door all in one quick movement. He talked as he did this not noticing Reba was in the room. "Hey, Mrs. H, I've been looking all over for you. Do you wanna go out to lun…" Van stopped, closing his mouth, as he finally took in his surroundings. The scene before him kept him bolted in place. He had never seen this before, and he had no clue what to do. Sitting on the edge of the couch with her hair hiding her face and her arms loosely resting on her knees, his mother-in-law stared down at the floor. Her chin was just inches from lying on her chest, and Van was sure the slightest touch would send her arms dangling to the ground. He forced his eyes to search the rest of the room, looking for anything that could be out of place. Nothing in the living room seemed suspicious except for the notebooks and boxes spread out on the coffee table. He knew somewhat about those, but could there have been something wicked inside? Objects or words to pain her more? To cloud her mind so much she didn't realize when someone spoke to her? Even now, minutes after he had barged into the room, she still hadn't acknowledged his presence. This was all new to him. They were never together while playing these roles. He being the strong one with all the answers, and she being the one who needed a shoulder to cry on and some good advice. At least, it was how one might read the situation. Taking a deep breath, Van finally snapped out of his daze. He ran to the couch, pulling Reba by her upper arms to him. He held her close to his chest. There still wasn't a response from Reba.

"Mrs. H, you ok? What's wrong?" When Reba didn't answer, Van held her out at arms' length, waiting for something. He didn't know what it was, but he knew her silence was not normal. "I've never seen you like this, Mrs. H. I don't know what to do. I want to be here for you, but I'm not sure how if I don't have a clue what happened." Van paused, hoping his mother-in-law would look at him or say anything. He sighed silently, letting his arms fall. Reba's eyes darted to the hand reaching into his pocket. "Alright, I'm gonna call someone. You're not…" Reba jumped to life at his words, snatching the cell phone from his hands.

"NO! You can't do that." Reba walked a few steps away from him, clutching the small object tightly with both hands. How could she talk to anyone about this? They wouldn't understand, and even if they did they'd just over react. Besides that, some of the things he wrote about were just too personal for anyone else to know. There would be no way she'd let another pair of eyes see those journals. Jeremy was much further ahead of her in this race than she thought. What did she do now?

"Then tell me what's wrong." Van stared with nervous, worried, and sad eyes at the back of her head. Reba closed her eyes, taking deep breaths. She didn't need Van involved. So far none of her kids or family had been hurt, and she planned on keeping it that way. No matter how hard her son-in-law tried, she would not give in.

"I can't talk about it. I won't talk about it, and I'm not going to talk about it." Reba sat down with her back still facing Van. She was completely ashamed of everything. The way Jeremy had managed to learn things about her she thought she hid well. How he had followed her every move without any trouble at all. Why didn't she notice? Maybe she was too caught up with her job and family responsibilities? Maybe she just wasn't as smart as she had thought? The man, who was slowly destroying her, had snuck into her house while everyone was sleeping. Her children could have been hurt so easily. Jeremy could have taken them without even breaking a sweat. She quickly fought off the tears and chills that came with that thought. What type of mother had she been the last year? This man could have taken everything and everyone she held so close to her heart in a matter of minutes. She took a deep breath, hoping Van would leave her alone. She needed time to think. She wanted to be alone, and she knew that her war could not be fought by anyone else. This was something she'd have to do on her own.

Van sat down on the arm rest of the chair, trying to wrap his head around what he was hearing and seeing. Why wouldn't she talk to him? What did he do now? She was stubborn, hurt, and scared. There was no way he could get her to talk now. He wished Brock or Cheyenne, even Barbra Jean, was here instead. They were good at being there for Reba. They always knew how to comfort her, and make her smile again. He was not sure if he had ever helped her in such a huge way. Maybe when Kyra had decided to move out, but even then she had taken the lead. Now, he had to lead and follow. Van sighed, feeling a small hunger pain in his stomach. He jumped to his feet as an idea shot through his head. He did come for lunch after all.

"Hey, Mrs. H, you want to order a pizza?" He switched his voice and posture to mimic her in a goofy way. He watched her body language as he talked. "Why, yes, Van. That would be great! I love pizza." He took a deep breath, standing up straighter with his thumbs hooked to his belt loops. Reba kept her eyes locked on her lap, trying hard to ignore him. Van was putting so much effort into making her feel better, and what was she doing? Being a big monkey's butt. Reba sighed, holding back her tears. She couldn't keep this to herself, and Van would be the perfect one to tell. He wouldn't judge her, he wasn't one of her kids, he wasn't her best friend, and most importantly he wasn't Brock. He was Van, her goofy loyal son-in-law. He would follow whatever lead she took. Reba closed her eyes, fighting the urge to blurt it all out. She didn't know what to do anymore. Van's voice broke though her thoughts, forcing her to listen to him. "OK! What kind would you like?" She listened as he became her again. Van moved around the couch, trying to get a glimpse of her face. He needed to know if this was working. "Well, I don't care. You pick, Van. You're the man…" Reba opened her eyes quickly, her lips forming into a smirk. He had always been there for her. If she needed him to keep it to himself, she was almost positive that he would. After all, he wanted to help her. Maybe she should tell him. He did deserve to know. They all deserved to know, but how would she tell him? Van leaned over just a little to see her face before continuing. "…And a far better realtor than me." He smiled as Reba rolled her eyes and told him to shut up with a little bit of laughter. She had to admit he knew which buttons to push, and he played his part very well. She kept the smile on her face as she ran a hand over it. Van took a deep breath, glad to see a smile on her face. Maybe being goofy was good thing. It had gotten him through a lot of tough situations, and he was glad it had not failed him now. He might have a chance in finding out what was wrong, after all. She did seem a little more relaxed. Not much, but some was better than none.

"Just order the pizza. I'm starving." Van stood up straight, and held his hand out towards her.

"I will, but I'll need my phone back." Reba looked down to her hands, which still hung onto the phone, before passing it to him. She had to trust him. He had given her no reason not to. Maybe a full stomach would help her in figuring out what to do. Should she tell him or not? That was the problem she had to overcome at this moment.

Brock sat at a table in the lunchroom of his building. Family doctors, dentists, and secretaries came in and out of the small room, trying to get in a few bites of food before work called for them again. A couple of doctors joined Brock at his table with grins on their faces. He smiled as they sat down, taking a drink of his Dr. Pepper. "Hey, Ralph, how'd the twins go this morning?" Brock asked his long time friend. The man ran a hand through his graying hair, taking the longest sigh any of them had heard. "That bad?" Ralph shook his head, taking a bite of his sandwich.

"No, they just took thirty minutes to pick out the toothbrushes they wanted. I'm just glad they were my only appointment this morning. My grandkids are so picky." He laughed with the rest of them, turning the conversation to the other doctor. This was their favorite part of the work day. When they could finally sit down and have time to talk before wrapping things up and going home in four hours. Brock listened to all of their stories, laughing when they would remind him of his family.

"You think that's bad? Just listen to this…" Brock swallowed the bite of food in his mouth, taking the chance to get his story straight in his head. Derek had told a story about his wife wrecking their truck last year, but Brock knew he had one better than that. "Has she ever wrecked two cars in one week?" The young, blonde doctor shook his head, and glanced at Ralph when he started to chuckle. He had heard the story Brock was about to tell, and he had to admit it was a good one. "Well, my ex-wife has done just that before. She ran her car into a fence, and while it was in the shop my son-in-law let her borrow his 65' Mustang." The young man's eyes widened slightly, and he glanced at Ralph, who had already started chuckling and shaking his head. Brock even had to pause to laugh. "Well, as she was pulling out of the eye doctor's parking lot, she scrapped the driver door against a pole. It looked horrible. Van nearly died right then and there." Brock smiled as he remembered the tricks and revenges the two played on each other for the rest of the year until Reba managed to dye his hair a permanent hot pink. That was a great year. The rest of their lunchtime was spent telling stories, and planning this year's camping trip. Brock had been enjoying it until Derek broke the laughter.

"Brock, I have to tell you…for being an ex-husband, you sure do talk a lot about Reba. I mean, I feel I already know her and I haven't even met her, yet. Which, by the way, when will that be?" Derek tossed his tray in the trash can, being followed by the other two men, as they left the cafeteria.

"What do you mean? I've barely said a word about Reba." At this comment Ralph had to join in on Derek's team. Almost every story his best friend had told involved Reba in some way. With the look on Ralph's face, Brock shook his head denying it once more.

"Alright, you don't talk about her that much. We're sorry." Ralph patted Derek's shoulder, leading him away from the puzzled man. "He'll think about it all day now." Ralph whispered as he and Derek turned the corner. Brock, on the other hand, shrugged it off, and went on with the rest of his day, hoping he wouldn't put anymore thought into it. Anna stood by the coffee maker, taking in all the stories she had overheard. What type of crazy person seemed so normal? She didn't seem like a stalker on the verge of ruining Jeremy's life. For one, she seemed to love her family way too much to do such a thing. Plus, Jeremy was twice the woman's size. He could have easily over powered her. Then again, she'd heard stories where people had been fooled. Reba could be crazy, and Brock was just too in love to notice. There was a part of her that wanted to believe Reba was good and Jeremy was bad, but the other part, the one who kept her so loyal to Jeremy, was stronger. She would have to learn more about this woman, but she'd have to be sneaky about it. She couldn't have another all night conversation from Jeremy. She needed her sleep. She sighed, pouring out her coffee before darting back to her office. She had work to do.

Reba and Van sat side by side on the couch, not talking. They hadn't spoken much since the pizza had been ordered. Neither one really knew what to say. Van tried everything he knew to keep his eyes off the notebooks on the table. He desperately wanted to read them and to find out what could cause his strong mother-in-law to be so silent and reserved. He wanted to help her more now than ever before. She needed a shoulder to lean on, and he wanted nothing more than to be that shoulder. He just wished she'd give him something to work with.

Reba stared at her lap, ignoring that the room had fallen silent. She needed to think, and having a conversation would not help her right now. She wasn't sure how much trust she had in Van. Of course, he was a great guy and would do anything to help her, but at the same time, they did play a lot of pranks on each other. How did she know he wouldn't use this against her at some point? How did she know he wouldn't force her to tell Brock or the rest of the family? How did she even start a conversation like this one? She sighed, wishing she had something to do. Anything besides staring into space would be helpful right now. Looking to Van, Reba wondered how much she really did trust him. Was he one of the ones she could be her life on? She believed so. He had helped so many times before, and had always been there to cheer her up when work had asked too much from her. She could trust him, right?

Van watched as he ran out of fingernails to pick at, and allowed his eyes to travel to the coffee table. It didn't help the knot in his stomach so he looked away again. Why wouldn't she tell him? Didn't she know he would do anything for her? She was family, and he had always taken care of his family. Something she had taught him from the very first time he met her. Besides that, she had provided him with a place to live, food, and unconditional love. How could he ever repay her for that? He wanted to hold her hand as she finished walking down this bumpy uncertain path she had been thrown onto. He wanted to help. Van risked a glance at the redhead, knowing all too well it would take more than a simple wish to get her to talk to him. He wanted to say something, but what was said at a time like this? He needed to start paying more attention to the chick flicks Cheyenne forced him to watch.

Reba stared at the opened journals still resting on the table. She wanted to put them away, but she didn't dare move from her spot. She was afraid Van would take it as a sign to open up the conversation, and she was not ready for that. She wasn't sure she would ever be ready. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she knew she would have to tell him what was going on, but as much as she wanted to do so, it just would not come out. She couldn't involve Van anymore than what he already was. Even if he didn't deserve to be left in the dark, she would have to keep him there for his safety. There wasn't anything else she could do, was there?

Van looked down to his cell phone resting in his lap. He should call someone, he knew that much, but she trusted him enough not to kick him out. He had to believe that she would talk to him. It was the only thing keeping him so quiet. What if he needed to call someone though? This could be something he shouldn't hear being her son-in-law. She might need Brock or Barbra Jean. Shaking away his thoughts, Van sighed. If she wanted to talk to someone else, she wouldn't be sitting next to him still. She wouldn't have yanked his phone away the first time he suggested it. He hesitated before holding his cell phone out towards Reba. She looked between it and him. "You hold it for me. I'm too tempted to call someone." Reba slowly took the object from him, her eyes following her hand as she rested it in her lap. Van sighed again, wishing the pizza would hurry up. He could tell they both needed something to occupy themselves with.

Reba turned the phone over and over in her hands. This only proved she could trust him. She should tell him. She needed to tell him. Otherwise, their time sitting there would have been a waist and neither one of them could afford wasted time. She blinked back her tears, her eyes shooting to the horrible booklets. Would he even understand how they could upset her like they had? Would he laugh at her and start making fun of her? Would he even care? Reba's thoughts were interrupted by her doorbell ringing throughout the house. She snapped her head to the front door, watching as Van ran to open it. He must have been really hungry. She sighed, not really in the mood for pizza anymore.

"Looky here, Mrs. H. ITS OUR PIZZA!" Van's excitement carried him back to the couch where he searched the area around him for a place to set the pizza box. After a few seconds of looking, he decided to eat in the kitchen. It would be better than mentioning the journals. Maybe he could even rinse off a plate or two. A minute later, Reba stood up, taking a deep breath as she walked into the kitchen. She couldn't believe she was about to do this, and looking down to the cell phone in her hand she remembered all the secrets she and Van had kept. She remembered how well she could trust the young man, and any thoughts of not telling him cleared her head. She took another deep breath, feeling the tears burn her eyes. This would not be easy.

Van turned around from grabbing two plates out of the cabinet. What stood before him broke his heart like the shattering of ice. Why was she crying? Why was she just standing there staring at him? For once he knew what to do. Van set the plates on the counter, pushing the pizza box away from him. When his name slipped from her lips, he could actually feel the pain and fear she felt. He knew the pizza would grow cold before they even opened the box. He slowly walked around the island to wrap her in the biggest hug ever. Reba fell into his embrace, feeling so welcomed and loved that she would never doubt him again. "Talk to me, Mrs. H." Van's encouraging voice brought warmth to the coldness around them. He loosened his grip, hoping she would listen to him. He couldn't stand to see her like this anymore. She deserved so much more than what she had been given.

"I'm just so scared, Van." With that, Reba broke down even more. He walked her over to the table, pulled out a chair, and helped her sit down. He sat down himself, waiting patiently for her to continue as he held her close to him. "Oh, who was I kidding, Van? I'm not gonna be able to beat him. He's so much smarter than me! I thought I was getting somewhere, but I'm not even close. It feels like I'm never gonna be close. This will never end!" Reba rested her head in her hands, and watched the tear drops hit the table cloth. Why did she even care? She would never win, and Jeremy knew this. Van rubbed her back as he listened. It was what she needed most right now. "He knows so much, Van. He's done so much. I just don't know if I want to know any more than what I do. The man was crazy!" Reba jumped up from the chair to pace the floor. Her hands shot through her hair or wiped her cheeks. Her chest heaved with each deep breath or sob. Her bare feet patted the hard floor in a rhythmic beat. A pattern Van would rather do without. He sighed to himself, wanting to comfort her, but he knew she was not finished. She needed to get it all out while she was able to. He turned slightly in his chair to watch her jerk back and forth. "Well, SAY something!" Reba stared at him for a few minutes, expecting him to comment on anything she had just said, but he didn't.

"I'm listening. That's what you want, right?" Van stared back at her, hoping he was right. Praying that she didn't want him to contradict what she was saying. He would if that's what she wanted, but he highly doubted it would do her any good. He just wanted to listen right now anyways. She hadn't even begun to tell him what he knew she was upset about. Reba nodded her head after a moment. If it had been Brock she was talking to, he'd have jumped at the chance to tell her wrong. She took a deep breath, sitting down on the island chair. She needed to stay calm. Van was only here to help. "Ok, then continue." Van turned his chair all the way around to face her, keeping his full attention on her.

"You promise not to laugh?" Van nodded his head. "Promise not to tell anyone else?" Van thought for a second before accepting the promise. He had to be the one to know or else she would bottle it up to be a secret forever. Neither one of them could afford for her not to tell him. Reba waited a minute, but she knew she wouldn't be able to put this off for much longer. She had already started, and Van would expect nothing less but for her to finish. She looked away from Van, her eyes following the pattern on the floor. Should she just blurt it out or find a nice way of putting it? Should she just let him read the damn journals? This was just too hard. There was no way she'd be able to tell Van or to even show him. Van cleared his throat quietly, smiling softly at her when she looked at him. Reba closed her eyes, her tears forming behind her eye lids. "I'm sorry, Van. I don't know…I just can't tell you." Reba kept her eyes off Van as she darted around the counter, opened the pizza box, wiped her tears with the sleeve of her shirt, and placed a piece of pizza on one of the plates Van had gotten out. Van watched, hurt and worried, as his mother-in-law moved about the kitchen. He didn't understand at all now. She was so close to letting him know what was hurting her, but she had stopped herself. He had promised. Did she not believe him? Did she not trust him? Reba set the plate in front of Van, once again wiping her cheeks. "Uh, eat. You have to be hungry…What am I saying…you're always hungry."

Her attempt at a joke was not lost on Van, but what bothered him was the lack of humor behind it. She was going backwards, falling back into a trap she'd fought hard to escape. He would not let that happen. He pushed his plate away from him, crossing his arms on the table. He slowly moved his eyes to look at her, noticing the shocked facial expression. "I'm not hungry anymore." Reba was surprised to hear those words escape his lips. He was never full, but always hungry. He could eat all day if he was allowed. Reba regained composure, and smiled down at him.

"But, you never give up pizza. Now, I know you're hungry. I mean, it is lunchtime." Reba reached for the plate again, ready to give it back to him. Van pushed the plate further from her, keeping his eyes locked on hers. "Come on, Van. It's gonna get cold." Van shook his head.

"I don't want it!" His voice echoed in the quiet room. "What I do want is to talk to you. I want you to tell me what's upsetting you so much. That way I'll know how to help! That's all any of us are trying to do, Mrs. H. Can you not see that? I know Jeremy was horrible, and everything he did was completely crazy and stupid and wrong. Believe me, I'll be the first to put my fist in his face if he ever comes back." Van paused, reminding himself to focus on her not his disgust for Jeremy. "You have to trust me. I'm not gonna hurt you. You are a part of my family, and family means everything to me! You know that!" Reba took a few steps back, staring at him with wide tear filled eyes. She shook her head, her heartbeat increasing. She looked between him and the living room door. Van noticed and rolled his eyes. "Please, Mrs. H, don't run. I'm…I only want you to feel better." Reba could tell Van was worried and scared. He was giving up food. He had to be sincere. He had to be willing to keep it a secret, to do anything she wanted him to do. She opened her mouth, desperately wanting to talk to him about it, but she couldn't. This is what hurt her most of all. The fear from the journals was nothing compared to what she felt right now. She was ashamed, scared, hurt, stressed, and panicked. She couldn't even talk to her own family. How did she expect to move on from this? Reba dashed from the room, leaving Van to close his eyes in failure. Van pounded his head with his hands. He was so stupid! He should have known she wouldn't have stayed. He had pushed her too much.

Reba walked back into the kitchen slowly. She made her way to the table without Van hearing her, and tossed one of the journals beside him. "I can't tell you, Van. I'm sorry…but this will." Van looked up, watching as she sat down next to him. Her cheeks were red and damp, and her whole body was pale and trembling. She did trust him. She did believe he would keep his promises. He wasn't stupid. Van sat up, gripping the journal with both his hands. He kept his eyes on Reba as he opened the book.

"Are you sure, Mrs. H?" Reba nodded her head, biting her bottom lip. Van hesitated, sighed, and began reading the first page. They sat in silence as page after page was flipped. Van closes the journal, leaving his hands on either side. An unfamiliar feeling washed over him as the words sunk in and the tears formed. Noticing the glossiness of his eyes and the beginning of a tear in the corner of his eye, Reba reached across the table for his hand. She rested her right hand lightly over his left hand, and let out the breath she was holding when he grabbed a hold of her fingers.


	9. Chapter 8

**A/N: Well, here ya go. Sorry that took me so long to do. I do have the next chapter finished so hopefully the updates won't take me as long. At least, I'm hoping they won't. lol. Please, enjoy, and let me know what you think. Feedback is always appreciated. I love your reviews/replies so far. Thanks so much for taking the time to do that. :) !!!!**

Reba and Van sat very still as they each thought of the journals. How, in little words, Jeremy could kill one's spirit. It didn't matter if he knew the things he wrote about, or if he had ever actually done any of them. What did matter was that this act was directed towards Reba. Van cleared his throat, gripping Reba's fingers just a little harder. She placed her other hand over his, and scooted a bit closer to him. "Van, it's ok." Her voice, a mere whisper, rang through his ears, but left none of the comfort she had intended. How could she think it would be ok? She could have been missing or dead right now. Maybe that's what she meant. She was just glad to be sitting next to him, breathing. Maybe she knew what he was thinking. How he should have waited up for her like he had done every other time. How he should have heard the door opening, and how he should have been able to help her. What was he doing though? He was sleeping. He wasn't there when she needed him. Van placed his other hand over his mouth, and slowly lifted his eyes to look at her. "Van, it's ok." Her voice was louder now, but still he felt the same. It was not ok.

"How can you say that, Mrs. H? After reading this," He held up the journal before tossing it back to the table. "How can you believe that it's ok?" Reba closed her eyes, keeping in mind his worried tone. She had to be strong, but it was much harder this time than ever before. "I don't want you to lie to me, to try to make it seem prettier than what it is. I'm not a child anymore. I can handle knowing how you really feel about all this. In fact, I want to know. I need to know so I can be there for you. Make it seem prettier than what it is…for you." Van stopped, waiting to see the blue of her eyes before continuing. "It's not ok right now, and you know it. But it will be. Now, that, we both know." Van felt her fingers slip away from his hands, and whether it was good or not, he knew he had crossed a line. He had broken through to her. Van held his breath when her eyes finally met his. The normal bright blue had been replaced with an icy grey, and it cut him to the heart. Had he gone too far? Had he said something wrong? Oh, how he prayed he hadn't.

"It's…not ok, Van. You're right about that, but you're wrong when you say it will be ok. I hardly think I'll be able to forget those journals. His words are still rewriting themselves in my head. Every day for the past two years, Van! That man has followed me…and…" She paused, unable to say anything else he had done to her. She closed her eyes and bit her bottom lip to keep the tears from sliding down her cheeks. Van was about to call her name when her eyes shot open again. He closed his mouth, praying she would continue. "You want to _pretty_ that up for me? How did you plan on doing that, Van? I mean, for Pete's sake, he drugged me! I was locked, unconscious, in a car with him for only God knows how long! How do you make that pretty, Van? Because if you can, please, go ahead! I would love to feel better about that one!" Her eyes dug into his soul like an auditorium full of eager audience members ready for the show. Her voice was sharp and tore through the room with a vengeance. He could feel his heart aching with the pain evident so much in her eyes. Then it hit him like a vicious rattlesnake.

"I don't know." His voice was so quiet she almost missed what he said. "I just don't know, ok! I wanted to help. I wanted to be able to help you through this, and to make you feel like you owned the world again….And I'm sorry I don't know how to do that! I wish I could have heard the door open when he brought you inside. I wish I would have stayed up to wait for you…like I normally would have. I WISH that for once I could have been there when you needed me. Knocking the shit out Jeremy would have been easy for me, but this…" He paused again, taking a deep breath to control himself. "But this is…hard. I don't know what to do to make you smile again, and it kills me every time I think about the past two years. I love you, Mrs. H, and the fact that that man got so close to you…enough to drug you…so close to taking you away from me…." Van couldn't continue. What did he say? That his heart nearly stopped beating every time he thought about it, heard about it, or saw the memories flashing in her eyes? He couldn't tell her that. He needed to be here for her. Her silence forced him to continue. Maybe once he got everything off his chest then she would feel more comfortable with getting everything off of hers. "When I read that entry, Mrs. H, the first thought I had was to kill him, but then this voice rang through my head…telling me that was stupid. I had a family I needed to take care of…that I needed to be there for them. You told me that I wouldn't like watching my children grow up behind bars…Then my second thought was to tell you that these journals were a piece of crap, and no matter how believable they were you shouldn't pay them any attention…" Van stopped. Why was he telling her this? It didn't matter what he thought or how he felt about the hideous journals. It mattered what she thought and felt.

At his pause, Reba jumped to her feet. "How am I supposed to do that, Van? They," Reba stabbed the journal with her finger as her voice shouted at him again. "Are _real_ to me. They _mean_ something to me." She now pointed to her chest, her tone changing quickly. "Those journals tell me exactly what I'm up against; Van, so you explain to me how I'm supposed to act like they are nothing…or in your terms a piece of crap."

"I don't know, Mrs. H. And I guess I never will, but I do know this…it isn't easy knowing you went through that and I did nothing to help you! I could have kept all this from happening, and I'm just so sorry that I'm not the best Man of the House out there." He paused, noting the way her eyes lightened a bit, and the tight line of her lips had softened a little. "Then it kills me that you have to go through all the thoughts in your head right now. The ones about not protecting your family. Not being smart enough to know he was there. Or how it kills me that you feel like you are nothing because of what he has done. You think I don't realize how this would make you feel or think? Do you honestly think I wouldn't notice how your body trembles slightly every time you breathe, or how you're eyes are empty?" Reba turned away from Van, hiding the tears flowing down her cheeks. They were hurting, and she had no idea how to make it go away. She never should have read those journals. She never should have let him read the one she had. What had she been thinking? Van walked up behind her, and made sure his voice was softer than it had been before. "I know you're having a hard time with this, and you know how hard it is for me to read about it…so…we need to talk about it and accept that it happened, Mrs. H. It makes dealing with everything that comes with it somewhat easier." He paused, listening to the quiet sobs of his mother-in-law. Oh, how that sound hurt him. A few minutes passed before she spoke.

"Oh, Van, I know that! I just can't do it…not as fast as you're wanting." Reba turned around to face him, her fingers shaking as she wiped them across both her cheeks. "Not as fast as everyone's wanting." Her whispering tone cut through to him, and making her feel better didn't seem as hard as it did a few minutes ago. He knew exactly what she needed, and for once was glad he had found her.

"You're trying, right?" Van made sure his voice matched her tone, and continued after she softly nodded her head. "Then that's all that matters. Don't worry about what we think, Mrs. H. We'll be right here," He pointed to the floor between them, making sure she returned her eyes to him after she glanced down. "Right here next to you after all this is over with. Ok?" She nodded her head again, wiping her cheeks quickly. Van frowned shortly before pulling her to his body. "You know, you never let me finish what I was saying..." He waited just a second, holding her tightly. "I got to thinking after that second thought that I was being an idiot. You wouldn't be able to push away the journals so easily; so I thought again…and this time I thought…" He rested his chin on the top of her head, feeling her body tighten and loosen with a deep breath. "I thought what you need most right now was just a listening ear and a great big hug. That's the one I was gonna go with." Reba moved her arms from between their bodies to wrap around him from under his arms. She couldn't believe how sweet this moment had turned out to be. Van knew exactly what to do.

Minutes had passed, the pizza was gone, and they were laughing as they walked into the living room. Reba took a deep breath before piling the journals into their box and closing the lid. Van watched her as he continued to joke about Barbra Jean. Apparently, Reba would laugh at even the stupidest of Barbra Jean jokes. Van smiled when she walked past him to set the box by the front door. "So, you gonna be ok, Mrs. H?" Reba glanced over her shoulder as she walked. She gave him a smile with a nod of her head.

"Yeah, I'll be fine. Why? You plan on leaving?" Van cleared his throat, glancing down at his watch. He still had enough time in the day to show one more house to a single mother of two. He hated to leave, but he couldn't be at her side forever. He'd have to trust that she was back to herself if only for the moment. Reba walked back to him, fixing her sweat shirt as she did. "Van, go. I'm just gonna pack these boxes in my car then maybe do a little house work around here."

"Ok. Well, I'm gonna show one more house before meeting Cheyenne at our house. She spent most of the day buying things to decorate it with…which means we're more than broke." He chuckled as Reba nodded her head in agreement. She picked up the other boxes, promising herself she wouldn't look inside. Van helped her carry the boxes out to her car, finally noticing she didn't have on any shoes. He shook his head, smiling to himself. "See ya for dinner, Mrs. H. You're still coming over to help, right?" Reba nodded her head, closing her car door. She smiled at him as he pulled her into another hug.

"Don't give Cheyenne too hard of a time for whatever she bought. The girl's got a good sense of style." Van rolled his eyes, but agreed. They walked to his truck, and talked a little more before Van pulled out of the driveway. Reba waved at him as he drove away, wondering what else the boxes could hold. She had promised herself not to look inside, but how long could that last? She needed to finish looking. There were only two left. She could handle whatever was inside. Van had given her the strength she needed, and she was positive that whatever else there might be could not be more terrible than the journals. She took a deep breath when Van's truck turned out of sight. She raced to her back seat, climbing inside quickly. She threw the lid off the first box and found empty photo albums. She sighed from relief as she carefully set it on the floor board. Reaching for the next one, she noticed her cell phone going off. Did she ignore it, or answer it? Reba shook her head to clear her thoughts, looked at who was calling, and then tossed it to the passenger seat. It was just Van. He probably wanted to make sure she was ok. He was so overprotective. She'd just have to check her voicemail. She flipped the lid off the last box, closing her eyes for a few seconds. Hopefully, nothing was inside it that pertained to her. She could really use a break about now. She lowered her eyes, puzzlement washing over her. She carefully reached her hand towards the small black rectangle resting in the box. Reba gripped it with one hand, pulling it out to examine it. Flipping it over in her hands, she read the masking tape stretched across the front. _Don't Watch. _Reba climbed out of the back seat, her thoughts bouncing back and forth. Did she watch it now…alone, or did she go to someone? If she went to someone, who would that be? It couldn't be Van. He had already helped her. It definitely wouldn't be any of her kids, and she couldn't imagine Barbra Jean keeping this to herself. So, Brock would be just about the only one. She took a deep breath, moved to the driver's seat, set the video in her lap, and started her car. Brock should be getting off work in twenty minutes. She had plenty of time to get there before he left. She sighed, thinking about what would happen next the whole way there.

Brock shut off the light of his office, closed and locked his door, and stopped by Anna's office to tell her he was leaving. When he got there Anna was looking at the books that lined one of the walls. She seemed to be remembering something. "Hey, uh, I'm done for the day." Anna shot her head towards him, and gave him a brief smile before pulling the book off the self. "You ok?" Brock stayed outside the door, quite aware of whom she was. He knew he shouldn't talk to her for long, but he couldn't be rude either. Anna looked up at him again, nodded her head, and moved to her desk. "You sure? I know it's probably none of my business, but…" Anna smiled at him, and set her book down.

"Oh, it's nothing really, Mr. Hart. I was just looking over the books in this office. My dad used to read this one to me when I was child. He really could tell a story. It felt so real at the time." She ran her fingers over the cover, wishing her father wouldn't have been taken from her so soon. She missed him terribly. Why didn't she let Jeremy have the company in France? It wasn't like he got along with their father. He would have loved getting away from him. She sighed, telling Brock to have a nice evening. He gave her a soft smile before walking away. That was strange. He walked outside, glancing around the parking lot for his truck.

Reba stopped just inside the parking lot of where Brock worked. Could she really do this? What if the video was nothing? Then she would have upset Brock for no reason. This could end very badly for the both of them. Could they afford another fight? She didn't know. She started her car again, catching Brock out of the corner of her eye. He looked around for his truck, and she sped up. She could talk to him at least. Explain what was inside the journals. How Van had found and comforted her. She knew she could trust him. He would listen to her, and talk some sense into her. She could always use a little of that.

Brock was just about to step off the curb when a beige car came to a sudden stop before him. He stared, in shock, at the redheaded woman driving the vehicle until he realized who it was. Reba rolled down her window, keeping her eyes on him. "Hey, you finished with work?" Brock nodded his head and took a deep breath. She had come close to running him over. Something had to be wrong. "Ok. That's great. I just thought I'd pick ya up." Brock stared back at her completely confused. He glanced over her appearance. Did she wear sweat suits to work? Didn't she normally fix her hair in some way other than a simple ponytail? "Well, get in the car. I can bring you back in the morning. I'm sure your truck will be fine over night." Brock cleared his head, and decided to go along with whatever she was doing. It had to be important. He climbed into the passenger seat, pulling her phone out from underneath him after he shut the door. Reba pushed on the gas again. Brock waited in the silence for her to tell him what was going on. She never got in the car without having the radio on. Something was definitely wrong now. He studied her for a few minutes. Just like when they were married and she'd have to drive while getting ready, her hair was pulled back into a messy bun. She had no make-up on, and he could tell she'd been crying. She had a tiny red stain on her pullover, and her sleeves were pulled down to her knuckles. Something she did when she was nervous or scared. He took a deep breath, worry taking hold of him. In her lap rested a video tape and he prayed it was one they had already seen. He didn't know if she could handle another crazy tape from Jeremy. Finally, after moments of staring at the tape, he noticed she wasn't wearing any shoes. Now, he knew she didn't go to work. Something terrible had happened. His eyes darted to the street ahead of him as they came to a red light.

"Reba…" Brock ran his hand over his mouth, hoping he wouldn't have to ask, but when she wouldn't even look at him, he continued. "Is there anything we need to discuss?" He noticed the short nod of her head from the corner of his eye, and mimicked her motion. "Ok. I'm listening." Reba sighed to herself, and passed the video to him. Brock looked over it, shivering at the words. "Have you…" He stopped when she interrupted him.

"No, I haven't watched it, yet. I don't know what's on it, but I found it in one of the boxes. I, uh, need to talk to you about what else I found. You're not gonna like it, but you can't get mad, ok?" Reba stole a glimpse at him as she continued to drive down the busy back road from Brock's office to her house. She knew exactly where she wanted to go to talk to him, too. Brock thought about it for a few minutes then shook his head. "Brock…" He interrupted her this time.

"I cannot do that, Reba. If you know I'm not gonna like it then you know how I'm gonna react to it. Now, I'll try not to get mad, but I'm not gonna say I won't. Neither one of us are very good at controlling our tempers." Reba sighed, knowing he was right. She couldn't tell him not to get angry. She wouldn't expect anything else from him. They were best friends, and the need to protect each other was inevitable. "I'll try, Reba. That's the best I can do." She bit her bottom lip as she turned down a very familiar street.

"Good." Brock stared at her, baffled by her answer. If he wasn't worried before he certainly was now. Her fingers kept peeling themselves from the steering wheel every few seconds, and her breathing was heavy. He held his breath until she pulled into the place they took their children, when they were little, to every weekend. Of course she would come here. It was where she felt comfortable. Whenever they would fight and she'd run from the house, he could always find her sitting on the park bench she was now walking towards. He quickly walked after her, fearing where their conversation would go. They sat down next to each other quietly. He stared at his lap, and she watched the leaves blow across the playground. Neither Brock nor Reba dared to start the conversation, and the silence threatened to suffocate both of them. Brock took a deep breath, wrapping his right hand around her left hand. She closed her eyes, and let the words pour out of her.

"This afternoon, I started to open the boxes. I know you didn't want me to do that at your mom's house, but I don't know…I guess something came over me. I just started going through them. My head was spinning and all I could think about was beating Jeremy. Finding out where he had gone. So, when your mother came into the room I ran as fast as I could. I got in my car and drove all the way to my house. What I found…" She paused to catch her breath. Brock pulled her hand into his lap and held it with both of his. They kept their eyes turned away from one another. "Jeremy wrote journals, Brock." She stopped, and Brock waited patiently for a few minutes. When she didn't continue, he knew.

"About?" He trailed off, wanting her to fill in where he left off. Reba's lip trembled slightly and she moved a little closer to Brock. He was just the person she needed right now.

"About me and the things he did." Brock felt her squeeze his hand and he squeezed back, exactly like they had done when the police wanted to talk to her about not finding Jeremy. He was now extremely worried, and prayed nothing too damaging had happened. Brock, courageously, placed his eyes on her, not liking the few tears already dripping off her cheeks. "They just felt so real, Brock. I mean, I remember everything he wrote about…I just don't remember him being there." Her voice had risen slightly, and her eyes had stayed locked on the trees. Brock gripped her hand tighter and longer, hoping it would help. Reba let out a shaky breath and returned his stare. "Oh, Brock, I don't know what to do anymore." The tears stormed out of her eyes harder and faster than he had ever seen before. "I need you so much right now." Without even a first thought, Brock pulled her to him, wrapped his arms around her, and held her as close to his body as he could. He tried whispering comforting words, tried humming her favorite songs, and even tried to take her down memory lane; but nothing would keep her tears from falling. He took a deep breath, realizing that this time she would need to cry. She would need to let all her fears and worries flow onto his chest. Her body was limp against his, and it took all he had to keep her on the small bench. He rubbed her back, played with the ends of her hair, and held her hand, hoping she would make it through this horrible day. Brock had no idea what was written in the journals, but he knew anger was the least of what he felt. He swallowed his emotions, focusing all his attention on her.

Brock looked over her shoulder at the ground, finding the video lying in the dirt. It would have to wait for another day. It wasn't important anymore, not right now at least. He stood up, carrying Reba with him. She had cried herself to sleep, and now the only sounds around them were those of the park. The sky had gone from a dark blue to a light black, and even with the street lamps on, Brock could barely see the path back to the car. Maybe he was just being overly careful. He opened the passenger door, laid her down in the seat, pulled the keys out of her pocket, and locked the doors before walking back for the video.

Once he was driving on the freeway, he reached for Reba's hand, running this thumb over the back of it. He could feel his own tears brim his eyes, and he focused his sight on the red tail lights of the car in front of him. With his voice no more than a whisper, Brock thought out loud. "Don't you worry, Honey. We'll get you through this. Just remember that I know who you are. I've been your best friend for the longest, Reba." A tear slipped down his cheek, and he quickly used his other hand to wipe it away. "Don't worry. I'll be right here every time you need me. I love you, Sweet Heart." He swiftly kissed the back of her hand, and let his thoughts drift for the rest of the ride.


	10. Chapter 9

A/N: Sorry, this one is shorter than what I normally post, but I needed to end it where I did. :) It might be a little while before I post the next chapter. I have two research papers and several semester exams that I need to focus on right now. I promise, though, any time I get I will work on this, and I will try my hardest to update as soon as I can. I hope y'all enjoy this. Let me know what ya think! :) I love the reviews so far.

Cheyenne studied her husband from the living room doorway. It was the seventh time he'd checked outside since he arrived home. She knew his watch was playing tricks on him, and wanted nothing more than to know what was bothering him so badly. Was it something she should know about? If it wasn't...What wouldn't he need to tell his wife? Cheyenne cleared her throat, getting Van's attention. "What's wrong, Sweetie? You seem a little anxious." Van took a deep breath, noting the concern in his wife's eyes. Did he tell her? He shook his head quickly, and sat down on the couch.

"I was, uh, just making sure Kyra could back out." Cheyenne raised her eyebrow, sitting next to him. Van wiped his sweaty hands on his pants' leg, feeling uncomfortable with lying to her. He turned a football game on, wondering what he would have done if he hadn't convinced Cheyenne to let him hook it up.

"Van Montgomery, she, along with everyone else, left half an hour ago." Now, tell me what's really going on. Does it have something to do with the fact that neither Mom nor Dad showed up tonight?" Van nodded his head, figuring if she guessed it he wouldn't have to feel guilty about telling her. Cheyenne's face instantly changed. Her eyes lit up with fear and worry, her mouth gaped opened, and her breath hitched just a little. "What happened? AND, don't you lie either!" Van winced at her tone, and turned the television off.

"Ok, since you guessed." Van stared at her, hoping she caught his hint. Cheyenne quickly nodded her head, and motioned for him to continue. Whatever it was she assumed Van would have been sworn to secrecy. "Well, I..." Van fumbled with the words, trying to find the best way to tell her. He didn't know where to start, and the growing fear in Cheyenne's eyes wasn't helping him either.

Brock carried the beauty in his arms, thoughtlessly taking her to their bed. He had forced all thoughts, other than the words she had said to him back at the park, out of his mind. He wanted to know what to do by the time she woke up. He wanted to show her that she could trust again. The tears came to his eyes once more, and all the times he should have been there for her, with her, flashed through his mind. Brock closed his eyes, and took a deep breath. Oh, how simple it could be to want something. If only there was a simple way to achieve it. Brock opened his eyes, and took a deep breath as he kissed Reba's forehead. He tucked her in before going downstairs.

Brock sat in front of the television, starring at the video in his hands. He wanted to be ahead. He needed to be there for her, and he could think of no better way than to watch it before she did. At least, then he would know somewhat on how she would react. Brock sighed, trying to think of reasons not to watch it. She would need him to be able to comfort her though, and if he was still as shocked as this video could make him then he'd never be able to comfort her. Brock cleared his throat, putting the video in the player and returning to his spot on the couch. As the picture came into view, Reba quietly stepped into the room. She paused at the sight of herself on the television.

_Reba lied on her bed, eyes closed and her hair a mess. Her white button-up shirt had been opened more so than she would have worn it and her black slacks blended in with the comforter. Jeremy's deep quiet voice rang throughout the room, forcing the silence to leave and hatred to enter. _

Brock fought hard to ignore what he was feeling as he watched the screen. He sat with his lips tightly clenched together. He didn't like where this was taking him, and he prayed it wouldn't get any worse. He took a deep breath, focusing harder on the words exiting Jeremy's mouth. Reba, on the other hand, couldn't seem to control herself. Her legs were moving backwards on their own, and she could feel her breathing becoming increasingly harder to do with each passing second.

_"Well, well, well, what do we have here? A doll? Ha! I do believe dolls are supposed to be ladies, conservative and classy, but not this. They should not let themselves go so easily. They should not leave bars with strange men and then let them into their house. Oh, no, My Dear, you are not a doll." There was a pause on the video, and then Jeremy's face appeared. _

Reba jumped a little when she saw the fiery, evil eyes again. She couldn't believe they still had such an effect on her. She could have sworn she was getting better. She could have sworn he didn't still have control over her, at least not this much. She felt her throat closing up and tried with all her might to clear it, but not matter how many times she swallowed the lump was still there. She blinked her eyes furiously, holding back as many tears as she could.

_"You could be so much more. I could help with that, I guess. Show you how to live and act. Hmm, wouldn't that be a challenge?" Jeremy paused thinking to himself for a second. "But it would still be too easy..." He stopped again, waiting with a sneaky smile on his face. "Christmas couldn't get any better. I've proven once again at how foolish you are, and how brilliant I am. My Dear, I'm inside your house...your room...I could do anything I want right now. The rohyphnol has left all the control in my hands." Jeremy raised his hands, the smile still stretched across his face. He leaned back a little, letting the silence fill the room. "You are helpless." The smile stretched and he moved closer to the camera. His face was blocking most of the screen. "They say redheads are feisty and stubborn. I wonder how long it would take me to break you of that. Now, that would be interesting. Although it wouldn't be much of a challenge, it could be a fun little hobby." Jeremy stood up, the screen going black with his pants then showing the room once more as he walked to the side of the bed. His body was big and towering. He knelt down, cupping her cheek with his hand. "Oh, so, so, helpless." He stopped talking as he let his hand run down her arm, the smile surfacing again. _

Brock clenched his teeth, oblivious to the pain in his jaw, and mentally called the man every name in the book. He glared, with cold and furious eyes, at Jeremy as if he were trying to blow him up. He sighed, trying to calm himself down and loosening his grip on the video remote. On the other side of the room, a heart was pounding with the boiling feelings inside the body fresh with coldness. Reba's eyes were wide as she could feel every slide of his hand down her arm, and every time he darted his eyes to the camera everything about her froze. She was losing her mind faster than she wanted to admit. With Jeremy having the power he did, she had no choice but to give in. Give him all she had to offer, and slowly she started to shut down.

_Jeremy backed away from the bed just enough to unbutton his shirt. His smile had grown into an evil smirk, and his eyes now had an awful yellow glow. "Everything worked out just like I planned. Now, it's time for part two. This part I'm really going to enjoy. I finally get to make you mine. I'm going to ruin you, My Dear. Your pretty little world will crumble at your feet." Jeremy stood back up, throwing his shirt towards the camera. He sat on the edge of the bed, kicking his shoes off. He paused as he stared straight ahead for a moment. "Althought, this won't have much satisfaction..." He stopped again._

Brock threw the remote across the room, and only for a second did he rest his hand on his forehead. The next second would be the worst of his life. Reba's heart stopped what appeared to be forever when the screen went black. Of all the places for Brock to stop, he would have picked that one. She felt her lungs fill with air as her back slammed against the wall, and within the next second her scream followed her to the floor. Brock jumped to his feet, spinning as he did. Why had she come downstairs? When had she come into the room? He raced to her side, aiming to hold her, but she wouldn't let him. Her hands were balled into fist and anytime he reached out towards her she swung them. Her screams and cries were the worst he had ever heard coming from her. He could barely understand anything she was saying. He reached for her once again, and this time he fought past her flinging arms, pulling her chest to his own.

"Reba! Honey, calm down!" Brock yelled as loud as he could, praying it would be loud enough to hear over her fearful shouts. Reba's body beat against him with all the strength she had, and after a few seconds Brock willingly let her go. Her stare was completely blank and her voice held an emptiness that shot a chill down his spine. He didn't know what was happening. This wasn't the Reba he knew at all. He had never seen her in this state before, and it terrified him to no end. He sighed, trying to think as fast as his mind could go. Reba pushed herself away from Brock, backing up against the wall again. She wrapped her arms around her legs, watching his every movement and crying uncontrollably. Once small twitch from Brock sent her into a screaming fit, begging him not to hurt her. Brock turned his back to her, searching the room for the house phone. Once he found it, he quickly started to dial a number. There had to be some way he could calm her down.

Reba took deep breaths as she slowly stood up, her back continuing to be pressed against the wall. Her chest was heaving making breathing a difficult task. She glanced towards the kitchen doorway then back at Brock before taking off. She ran as fast as she could to the small back door, wrapping both her hands around the shiny gold doorknob. She pulled hard, but it wouldn't budge. More tears fled from her eyes as she realized it could all happen again. Reba yanked at the door, begging it to open, but it still stayed locked in place. Placing one foot on the wall beside the frame and bracing herself with the other, she tried one long pull.

"Hey, Richard, it's Brock...Umm, I need a huge favor..It's Reba. Can you come over?" Brock's voice shook slightly and he kept running his hands over his pant legs, trying to wipe away the nervous sweat. He took a deep breath, attempting to calm down, but it wouldn't work at all. The doctor, on the other end, asked a few questions, but was already heading to his car. His friend had never sounded so worried before. Brock tooked over his shoulder wondering what all the noise was. When he didn't see Reba, he started for the kitchen. "Uh, yeah...Hold on." Brock walked into the kitchen, his eyes widening at Reba nearly tearing the door off the hinges. He quickly tossed the phone to his side and ran towards Reba, all thoughts leaving his mind in just a few steps.

Reba spun around at the bang of the phone hitting the table, and immediately flattened her back against the back door when she saw Brock running towards her. She fought against him when his arms wrapped around her. As he started to carry her away from the back door, Reba threw her right fist towards his face, making a hard contact with his left eye. Brock instantly set her down, still blocking her from reaching the door. "It's not gonna happen again, Jeremy! You...You just stay away from me!" Her voice shot through every room of the house and Brock listened as lamps and vases full of flowers fell to the floor. She was making a mad dash to the front door and as soon as he realized it wasn't locked, he raced after her, catching her just before she reached the front door.

"REBA! CALM DOWN!" He spun them around, holding her back the best he could. Reba screamed over his voice, shouting words that stabbed at his heart. He tried to block her out, focusing on keeping her at a distance from any exit. He couldn't have her running the street in this state at this time of night. He prayed Richard was on his way.

"Let me go, Jeremy! Please, I didn't do anything this time, I promise. Just don't hurt me. Please, Jeremy! PLEASE!" Her voice, cold, distant, lost, almost broke through to him, but he had to remember she needed him to be her strength. He couldn't let her have her way this time, and no matter what she did or said to him, he would do his job. The job she had asked him to do just a few hours ago. Reba brought her knee upwards, taking every second she had bought herself to get away. Brock fell to his knees, wincing in pain. Reba darted up the kitchen stairs two at a time, quickly finding a closet to hide in. If he wasn't going to let her leave then she'd just have to give him a run for his money this time. She wasn't going down without a fight this time. Jeremy would not hurt her again.

Brock took a deep breath, slowly standing on his feet, and eased his way to the stairs. He had to keep his eyes on Reba. She was not in the right state of mind. How could she even think he was Jeremy? They didn't look anything alike, and not once had he came close to hurting Reba the way Jeremy had done the past few years. Brock hoped she was still whimpering as he listened for her crying, and he prayed she wasn't hiding anywhere with a weapon to put him out of his misery with. He stepped quietly through the bedrooms upstairs, searching every inch for her. How could he have lost her in just a few minutes?


	11. Chapter 1o

**A/N: And we all go....FINALLY! lol. Sorry this took so long. I rewrote it several times. Anywho, hope you enjoy it. Let me know what you think!! :) **

Richard Yolks pulled into his friend's driveway, watching the outside of the house for a few minutes. He didn't know what had been going on, but he knew it was something very serious. Brock never would have called him for a medical favor unless there was an emergency. He turned his car off, and nervously walked along the stone walkway to the door. He knocked, waited for a few minutes, heard glass breaking, and shoved his way into the house. Reba collided into his body, falling to the floor from the unexpected tall, strong body standing in her path. She stared up from the floor, eyes wide at the silver haired man in front of her. His skin was dark, and his brown eyes held concern. She screamed, quickly scooting away from him. Now, she had two men to run from. How was she going to do that? Brock jumped over the back of couch just in time to catch Reba before she ran from the room again. Dr. Yolks opened his mouth to say something, but he knew with the noise level coming from the two in front of him that he'd never be heard. He moved to the coffee table, already knowing what was needed of him. They would need her to be calm and quiet before anything else could be done.

Brock glanced at Richard, glad to see he was ready to sedate her. Reba turned her head just in time to see the man coming towards her with a needle. Her eyes widened and she found a new strength as she pushed against the couch with her feet, causing both her and Brock to fly backwards. Richard took a deep breath, watching out for flinging arms and legs. Brock wrestled with Reba until he had his arms and legs tightly wrapped around her. He nodded his head when Richard raised his hand, and he braced himself for the next part. Reba screamed her loudest when she felt the needle in her skin, and she hoped the neighbors were home and would hear her. Then, before she could think another thought, she was out. Brock took a deep breath, slowly and carefully letting go of her. He carried her to the couch, finally able to hear Richard as he asked what was going on.

"It's a long story, Man. Thanks for doing that. I don't know how much longer I could have taken. She definitely would have…Uh, never mind." Brock sat on the other couch, motioning for Richard to do the same. The doctor checked on Reba before joining his friend.

"Long story or not, Brock, I need to know what's going on. Now, we both know from what I just saw…I'm leaning towards submitting her into a hospital, but since you're a friend, I'm giving you a chance to explain some things. I suggest you do it, Brock." Richard Yolks didn't play when it came to his career, but he knew both of these adults. They had been his friends for the longest of time. Although, he had to admit, he hadn't seen Reba in a good ten years. He pushed his glasses higher on his nose, instantly becoming the professional that he was. Brock swallowed the lump in his throat, looked over his shoulder at a sleeping Reba, and then back at Richard.

"She doesn't like hospitals. I will not have her going into one, Doc. I can't risk it." Brock took a deep breath, still unsure of what to do. He needed help. If Reba were to wake up and freak out like she had just done, then he alone would not be able to calm her down. She needed him to be in control now, and to be the one to make the decisions. He sighed, knowing exactly what he had to do.

"Risk what?" Brock turned his attention back to Richard, uncertainty shining in his eyes. "Ok. Either you tell me or she's going to a hospital, Brock. I can't do any favors without knowing…You know that, _Dr. Hart_." Richard gave Brock a knowing stare, finally seeing the registration in his eyes. He understood now. Brock took a deep breath, explaining the best he could what had happened. He told Richard about the videos, therapy sessions, her hospital break downs, and everything else he could remember. Richard listened, waiting patiently when Brock had to take breaks. He waited through the moments when Brock had to move to Reba's side just to gain the strength both pulled from each other. He wondered when they would learn they needed the other one more than anything else in the world. He cleared his throat once Brock had finished, thinking to himself on what to do.

"Ok. Here's what I'm gonna do and you will have to do exactly as I say… Do you understand the importance of doing that, Brock?" The disorientated man nodded his head, keeping his eyes on the older man in front of him. There was a silence as Dr. Yolks thought a moment, still having an uneasy feeling about his idea. "Ok. What medication is she on?" Brock froze, any knowledge of her medicine escaping him. He slowly lifted his eyes to the doctor sitting next to him. Richard sighed, nodded his head, and frowned. "You don't know?" Brock jumped at the question, his feet instantly running towards the kitchen. Richard watched as Brock ran from the room, shouting that he would get her medication for him. Richard waited patiently in the spacious living room, staring at Reba as she slept on the couch. He sighed again, remembering how happy she was ten years ago. He thought of her then compared to what he saw tonight. The differences in the two were bigger and more dangerous than he'd like to admit to Brock, but he needed to explain things to the man before he, himself, lost control. Tonight was a perfect example of what could happen if one thing went wrong. He took a deep breath, letting it out as slowly as he could. He prayed what he was about to do would be the right choice.

Brock rushed into the room, handing over several orange bottles. He checked on Reba as Richard read the labels. "Is she gonna be ok, Doc?" Lowering his hands to his lap, he watched Brock rub a thumb across the back of the redhead's hand. He smiled slightly at the sight.

"If I told you she wasn't…would you believe me?" Brock took a deep breath, sitting down on the floor next to Reba's couch. He placed his head in his free hand, shook his head, and started to cry. Richard stared on sympathetically, knowing the initial shock had worn off. "Would it even matter?" His voice, almost drowned out by stifled sobs coming from Brock, was quiet. Brock looked over his shoulder, sniffling a couple times.

"What happened, Doc? Why…" Brock trailed off, returning his stare to his lap unable to look at anyone or anything else at the moment. "How could she not know it was me...That I was trying to help?" Brock cleared his throat, wiping the wetness from his cheeks. He winced at the slight pain in his left eye. She had one heck of a punch.

"Well, it appears to me that she became so scared that she had a flashback….Such a severe flashback that it caused her to lose touch with reality. Watching that video, you told me about, probably reminded her of the afternoon he raped her. She could have thought it was happening again, just like it had that day, therefore, she would see you as Jeremy. She would be trying to get away, and knowing how that day went, she would be trying extremely hard." Richard pointed to the black circling Brock's eye, and instinctively Brock touched it. Brock sighed, letting the Doc's explanation sink in. He had to be right. He prayed it was only a flashback and not a permanent state of mind. Richard noticed the pain and praying in the younger man's eyes, and knew, even if his decision was wrong, this choice was definitely worth attempting.

"I just don't…It just doesn't add up." Brock sighed, moving to sit next to his friend. He needed to stay focused on what the experience doctor had to say, especially if Richard was doing him such a huge favor.

"Yes, it does, Brock. You've been with her through most of this…if not all of it, and you know why she's taking this medication. You know of her previous breakdowns, and just like you told me, you knew this video would have affected her like it has. Maybe not as severely, but you knew her reaction would not have been pretty." Brock stared hard at Richard. They sat there in silence, having their own starring contest. Brock knew he was right, but how did he admit it. He was supposed to be helping her and keeping her safe, but if he was doing that, like he thought he had been, wouldn't he have stopped her from going this far? Wouldn't he have been able to prevent this terrible evening?

"It's never been like this…not this bad. She thought _I _was _Jeremy_." Brock placed his head in his hands, resting his elbows on his knees. It still hadn't sunk in enough for him to accept what he needed to accept. He had been clueless. He had failed her. Brock closed his eyes tightly, forcing the salty water droplets to disappear before they even made their presence.

"There's not a specific definition of a flashback. They have different levels just like everything else. There is no way to predict how severe it will be. Now, that means, Brock…" Richard waited for Brock to lift his eyes before continuing. "You wouldn't have been able to prevent it." Brock nodded his head, not really believing him, but accepting it anyways. He looked to the floor, trying to remember any time he could have been of use to her, but his thoughts traveled down a different path, one of which had led him to notice he had been wrong all this time.

"I thought she was getting better." Brock took a deep breath, following his mind wherever it wanted to take him. "Now, though, I realize it was just wishful thinking on my part." Brock stood up, his thoughts now racing to be known and voiced. "By not helping her…By not opening my eyes enough, I gave her the match to light her out of control fire. I should have…done something. Anything." Brock paused, glancing at Reba. "I shouldn't have let her go back to the house by herself…Why am I always so stupid? I'm always letting her get hurt!" Brock stopped; his thoughts calming down along with his breathing. His eyes glazed over before he ran his right hand over his face and through his hair. "I promised her, thirty years ago, that I would never let her down. I would never let anything hurt her." Brock sat on the floor next to Reba, and watched her sleeping form. He watched her eyes darting around under her eyelids, her mouth opening and closing slightly, and her chest gently rising and falling with each breath. "I'm so sorry, Honey. I did everything wrong. You were such a great friend, lover, wife, but I just couldn't return it to you. I just couldn't be the Forever Man you wanted, but I can honestly tell you that I did love you. Through everything we've been through over the years, I loved you to death. I…still do…so, so much." Brock rested his head on her stomach as he let the tears fall again; completely forgetting Richard was in the room.

Richard quietly cleared his throat and wrote out prescriptions for both Reba and Brock. He paused for a moment, glancing around the room. Being a firm believer in everything happened for a reason, Dr. Yolks found himself wishing for a time machine to send these two back to fix whatever had been broken. He shook his head to clear it and stood up. Brock lifted his head with a startled expression, but remained on the floor at Reba's side. Richard held out his hand, offering the slips of paper to Brock. "There's more to it than these pills. You are gonna have to take her somewhere quiet that will disconnect her from all this. Take her away from people so she can rest and be calm. Somewhere with no triggers of Jeremy. You're gonna have to stay close and make sure she takes her medication. As long as you're doing that all we can do is hope she'll get better this way." Brock took the paper from his friend and nodded his head, already thinking of places they could go. Richard gathered his things, ready to get home to his wife. He suddenly wanted to spend all his time with her and to tell her he loved her over and over again. Brock walked with Richard to the front door, both stopping at the door.

"Do we still have that cabin you, Ralph, and I shared years ago?" Brock opened the door, welcoming the fresh cold air. It cleared his mind long enough for his stable, sensible side to kick back in. He wiped his cheeks as Richard passed him.

"Yeah, Ralph still owns it. No one's been there in a while though. Ralph took his grandkids up there last summer, but he does keep the place in good working order." They both nodded their heads, walking out to Richard's car.

"Ok. Then I'll call him. How long do we need to stay?" Richard thought for a moment, his hand gripping his door handle. He breathed in the air, holding it for a few seconds. Brock did the same, questioning the whole plan. He had no idea how things were going to play out the next few days.

"Well, the absolute least would be two weeks, but I'd prefer y'all stay longer." Brock watched Richard climb into the driver seat, the uncertainty slowly leaving him. He could not waste time in not believing that everything would be better after this. Reba deserved more than that. "Brock…just remember if this doesn't work…she goes into the psychiatric hospital." Brock nodded his head, already knowing he would stay gone until Reba was better no matter how long that would take. He would not admit her into a psychiatric hospital even if this would be their life from now on. He would take care of her, and be there when she had her break downs. Richard noticed the determined stare in his friend's eyes, and sent an extra prayer for this to work. Otherwise, he'd hate to see what would happen when it didn't. Both men were quiet. The wind pick up slightly, whistling as it passed between them. Richard opened his door, stepping closer to the inside of his car. Brock took a step back, allowing the door to swing towards him. He glared into his friend's eyes, knowing he had something on his mind.

"What is it, Doc? Is there more I need to do? I'll do it…whatever it is." Richard rested his arm on the top of the door, and rubbed his mouth with his other hand. After a moment, he sighed, gently tossed his bag into the passenger seat, and looked back to Brock.

"Yeah, I'm gonna wanna see her in the morning. Call me as soon as she wakes up. We'll set something up." He paused. The rest could wait for tomorrow. Brock didn't need any more to do with his mind in the state that it was. Richard quickly climbed into his car, shutting the door behind him. Brock nodded his head before waving at the doctor as he drove down the driveway. He took a deep breath of the cold air, holding it in for a few seconds. Shaking his head, he turned to go back inside.

Cheyenne squinted at Van, thinking over everything he had told her. "You sure that's all that happened? Really?" Van, hiding his nervousness, nodded his head and turned his attention back to the football game. Cheyenne grabbed the remote, pressed the power button, and tossed it to the chair behind her. "She got fired. But why? That doesn't make any sense. She's fantastic at her job. Mr. Jones loved her, didn't he? I mean, wasn't it you that he didn't like?" Cheyenne leaned back into the couch, wonderment still playing on her face. It didn't seem fair how her mother could go through such a traumatic nightmare and work her butt off shortly afterwards only to be fired. "Wait, if she wasn't there for Mr. Jones to fire her himself then why was she upset when you found her at the house?" Van cleared his throat, glad he had already thought of this answer.

"She wasn't upset about losing her job until I told her, remember? She was just cleaning up the house…reading some old books or something…When I asked her why she wasn't at work, she got all surprised and said she forgot. So, then I had to tell her she got fired. She ran around the house in her usual angry "No, you didn't!" mood, mumbling about men being idiots. Oh, she also said something about never working for a man again. She was gonna start her own business…but I think that quickly changed. After we talked about it and I calmed her down…we ordered pizza." Van smiled big, remembering his lunch. Then it hit him all over again. His smile faded and he was glad Cheyenne was starring at the ceiling. He cleared his throat again, suggesting they go to bed. They had a long day tomorrow. Cheyenne didn't quite believe Van, but was too tired to drill him with more questions at the moment. She'd just have to talk with her mother tomorrow. She followed Van upstairs, both taking turns to yawn as they walked.

Brock closed the front door behind him, looking at the mess around the house. The broken glass shattered on every inch of the floor. The furniture angled in new directions. The leaning photos on the walls and the couch cushions that had fallen to the floor. He sighed, deciding he could start cleaning in a minute. Right now he needed to sit down. With his thoughts unable to decide which way they wanted to go, his head was spinning. Everything had happened so fast, and shock was the least of what he felt. What good was he if he couldn't help her when her life depended on it? He sighed, feeling the weight on his shoulders increase.

Brock made his way to the couch, stopping for a second to stare at Reba. He bent down, moving a strand of hair from her face. He wondered how hard she fought against Jeremy the first time. If she hadn't fought, what did he use against her? Was it his strength, or did he threaten her in some way related to the family? Brock knew it took a lot to get to this redhead, but this time, he had a feeling Jeremy played his cards in the right order. He watched her, learned her weaknesses early on, waited until he was close enough, and struck her when she least expected it.

Shaking his head, Brock shot the thoughts away, trying his hardest to focus on something better. He tried making a mental list of everything they'd have to do tomorrow. It didn't work. His mind was still wandering throughout his day. How Reba had looked when she picked him up from work. How she had broken down at the park. And then, how she had reacted to the video which still sat in the VCR. Brock closed his eyes, knowing the second he turned his head everything would change again. He didn't know how much more he could handle tonight.

Brock opened his swollen bloodshot eyes, his need to know how far Jeremy had gone beating his want to not watch it. He stared at the frozen picture that called out to him. It was daring, almost begging, him to push the dreaded play button. Brock reached for Reba's hand, holding it tightly, and prayed for a little more strength. He needed to know what he didn't want to see. He eased his way closer to the VCR, reaching slowly for the button. He hesitated, once again closing his eyes and thinking about his health. How much more could he really handle?

Brock pulled his hand away, turning his back to the television and staring wide-eyed at Reba. Could he watch something that wasn't his business? Did he dare enter a personal part of her life without her knowing? He could and he dared. He had to know so when she asked in the morning he could answer her. She would want to watch the rest and he would feel much better just telling her. Brock moved to the empty couch, sitting down at a turtle's pace. He rested his elbows on his knees, placed his thumbs under his chin and his fingers under his nose, and let his eyes dart between the television and Reba.

After a few minutes, Brock cleared his throat and searched around him for the small black remote. He rolled his eyes as he realized it was lost in the mess, completely forgetting he had thrown it across the room earlier that night. Taking a deep breath, he slowly made his way forward, hoping to give himself the time to change his mind, but there just wasn't any escaping the trance of the video. Knowing he now had no other choice, Brock pushed the small circular button with the green triangle, and when the video started again, he quickly turned to watch Reba. He knew with the sedative that she wouldn't wake up, but still the instinct to protect her was still surging through his body. She remained like she was, wandering through a dreamland he only prayed was a pleasant one.

Brock forced himself to look back at the screen, and what he saw surprised him. He couldn't decide whether it was a good thing or not. There on the screen, lying next to Reba with a digital camera was Jeremy, snapping picture after picture. He moved about the room, changing his and Reba's positions countless times. Brock took a deep breath, moving to sit on the edge of the couch as the last few minutes of the video faded away. He wanted to have the answers, but in a nightmare like this one, he knew answers would not be enough. Every time he thought things were getting remotely under control they spiraled even faster than the round before. No one had their hands on the reins this ride, and he wondered how much longer the passengers could take before they all came crashing down. Brock knew, if he didn't gain some type of control, he would surely join Reba in the fight to keep their sanity. Once everything he needed to do was over with, his eyes froze on the screen while his brain quickly shut down. No thoughts would dare to pass through his mind now. He needed to be numb and blank, and his body was allowing this to happen.

Brock's mother opened her front door, happy to be home. She was exhausted from helping Cheyenne and Van and from the long trip there and back. She lifted her eyes from the keys in her hands to the scene before her. Her eyes traveled from the mess of her living room, to the television set, to the redhead sprawled out on one couch, to her pale son sitting on the other one. Even though she was worried and confused as to what happened, she remembered her grandchildren, and quickly stepped back outside, catching Barbra Jean before she could walk inside. With the facial expression on Elizabeth's face, Barbra Jean stopped instantly and paid very close attention to whatever the woman was going to say. "I need you to take the kids upstairs…but through the back door. Something happened in there, and I don't want them to see just, yet. Ok?" Barbra Jean noted the tone of the older woman's voice, and turned on her heels, picking Henry up within a few steps. Kyra and Jake followed, too tired to ask a lot of questions. Elizabeth waited until they rounded the house before she entered her living room again. With her mind going wild with questions she closed the door behind her. She paused as she listened to the commotion in the kitchen as Barbra Jean coaxed the kids up the stairs. She took a deep breath, moving towards Brock, who still hadn't broken from his deep thoughts. Sitting down next to him, Elizabeth placed her hand on Brock's shoulder, bringing him back from whatever deep dark place he had traveled to. Elizabeth struggled to keep her straight face as she stared at her son. He was in trouble and she wanted nothing more than to help him.

Brock jumped slightly at her touch, his head turning to look at her. With the realization of who was sitting next to him, Brock's body fell into her embrace. "Momma, can you hold me, please?" Elizabeth wrapped her arms around her son's body, rocking him slightly. Brock held onto his mother, welcoming the warmth of her love. Elizabeth closed her eyes, praying to herself. After a few seconds of absolute silence, Brock opened his mouth. "Sorry 'bout the mess. I'll clean it up in a minute. I…I-I just need a minute." Brock felt his mother run a hand through his hair as she told him not to worry about it. She didn't care about the mess at the moment. He nodded his head, pulling away to look at her. "I know you want to know what happened, but…" Brock's eyes traveled instinctively to Reba, and almost immediately he had to close his eyes to fight back the tears.

Elizabeth pulled Brock to her one more time, kissing the top of his head. "Honey, it's ok. You can tell me tomorrow. Right now…you need some sleep." She let go of Brock, standing up as he nodded his head. She guided his body as he stretched out on the couch. She patted his arm, watching his blank stare for a moment. What on Earth had caused all this? She sent out another prayer as she swallowed the lump in her throat away. "I'll be right back with some blankets and pillows, ok?" Brock nodded his head, his eyes already falling close and his breathing slipping into a calm rhythm. "I love you, Brock." Elizabeth kissed his forehead as he told her he loved her, too. She eased her way to the chest in the corner of the room, pulling out a couple of big heavy quilts. Using one for her son and the other for the woman she always saw as a daughter, she grabbed two small cushions off the floor. She lifted Reba's head, slipping one underneath it then she moved to Brock, finding him sound asleep, and did the same to him. After taking a deep breath, she wished each of her kids a good night and sweet dreams, heading into the kitchen. Now, she had one concerned blonde woman to talk with before she herself could go to sleep.


	12. Chapter 11

A/N: Sorry this took so long to update. There are several reasons. First, I've been extremely busy. Second, I've had major writer's block for this story. And the rest really are important. lol. But I hope you enjoy this all the same, and continue to read it as I slowly finish it. Sorry again. Let me know what you think, please! I'll try not to wait so long this time now that things have calmed down some. :) Oh, one more thing, if there's anything weird or messed up either let me know and I'll fix it or just ignore it and I'll fix it when I notice it. lol. I haven't really read over this, yet. OK. No more rambling. Here you go! Enjoy!

Reba rolled onto her back, throwing her arm over her eyes and taking a deep breath. The sunlight shining into the room only made sleeping that much harder. She rubbed her eyes, deciding that waking up was her only option. Then, like lightening flashing through the sky, the night before came back to her. She sat up slowly, the sedative still having a slight hold on her, and let her feet fall over the side of the couch onto the floor. She took a deep breath, trying to keep calm, but the thoughts of yesterday were not allowing her to do so at all. Her eyes were wide, and her lips trembled with the fear she had felt. Her heart was pounding against her rib cage, her chest was heaving from each short breath, and the silence of the house was heightening her fears. Reba gripped the edge of the couch tightly with her hands, slowly moving her eyes around the room. Everything was like it had been last night, the house a complete mess and no one around. Jeremy had come back for her. He had been trying to kill her, and she knew he wasn't gone. He was still in the house, waiting for her to wake up so the torturing could begin all over again. She needed to get out of here, or at least get a hold of Brock. She couldn't just sit there and wait for Jeremy to find her awake. He had had a friend, hadn't he? Where was this man at, and who was he? Who would help such a demon do something as terrible as rape and as murder? Her ears perked up, listening for any noise that would suggest someone was in the house with her. She closed her eyes for only a second, trying to focus more on the sounds around her, and jumped slightly when a noise came from the man on the other couch. She peeked at him, sighing in relief when she saw it was just Brock, covered head to toe in a giant quilt. She stood up slowly, wondering when he had gotten to the house and how he had known to come at all. Then, once again, the night came flooding back to her, but this time it was different. Jeremy hadn't been there at all, but she could remember seeing him. She could remember having to run for her life and having to attack him several times to get away. She remembered being poked in the arm with a needle. Instinctively, she reached up to touch her arm. It had happened because her arm was still a little sore. But Jeremy hadn't been there. She couldn't wrap her mind around the pictures, thoughts, and fears flowing through her at the moment, two different scenarios and no way to find out what really happened the night before. Reba sighed as she sat on the floor, her body going down at a slower pace than usual. She took a deep breath, watching as Brock slept and waiting patiently for him to help her.

Noise, it was coming from the kitchen, his family having breakfast or lunch depending on the time. Letting out a long breath, his eyes struggled to break free of the crusty sleep that had held them captive moments ago. His day was going to be hectic and difficult, and a part of him wanted to roll over and go back to sleep. He ignored it though, remembering Reba needed him now more than ever. He rolled over from his back to his right side, coming face to face with a pair of wide sad blue eyes, pale damp cheeks, and quivering pink lips. Sitting up slowly, he focused more on the woman in front of him. How she sat Indian style on the floor with one finger pressed to her pursed lips. Unsure as to why exactly, he nodded at her request to be quiet as concern formed in the pit of his stomach. His eyes shifted away only long enough to check the time before they landed back on Reba. 11 a.m. They had nearly slept the day away. He had slept way too long. He had so much to do today. Calling Richard, taking off from work, notifying Ralph, packing their bags, convincing Reba it was the best thing to do, and that was only the first few things. Brock sighed, allowing everything to soak back in, as he watched Reba move to the spot next to him. He glanced around the room, adding another item to his list. Wincing when Reba gently touched his eye, he turned his attention back to her once again, and frowned at her eyes watering with guilt and concern at his discomfort. Her voice was no more than a whisper when she spoke.

"I'm so sorry, Brock. I…I didn't mean to…" She trailed off, covering her mouth with her hand. With her tears pouring down her cheeks, her voice caught in her throat, forming a lump. She turned away from him, silent sobs racking her body. Brock instantly pulled her body into his arms, laying her head on his chest. Reba wiped the tears off her cheeks, trying hard to keep her composure. "What happened? I mean, Jeremy…was here. He came back, remember? He was here…and was trying to kill me. He…he," The sobs started again, and Reba buried her head into his chest and gripped onto his arms for life. "He came back to kill me. Remember? I have never felt so….terrified. Oh, Brock…You left…and he showed up. He…" She took a deep breath, trying to stay calm. Her voice became harder to hear between the whispering and crying. Her eyes widened and she pushed away from Brock slightly. "He had a friend this time. There was a needle, Brock…and you know how I hate needles." Her voice lowered at the mentioning of needles, and she felt a chill run down her spine. Brock pulled her back to him, running a hand through her hair. "It was like I was in a horror movie, Brock. He just wouldn't leave me alone…kept coming back every time I thought I was away from him and safe. It felt so real but yet like a dream, too….But it wasn't, was it? I mean, he wasn't here, was he?" She paused, thoughts still swarming through her head. Brock waited, still unsure of what to do. Richard hadn't warned him on how she would react when she woke up. His stomach was now completely full of the nervous butterflies. What did he do? "Brock…please, tell me what happened. I'm confused and I can't really remember."Reba buried herself deeper into his embrace, pieces of the night before coming to mind.

Brock wrapped his arms around her, taking a deep breath. He had to tell her. He couldn't keep her in the dark until she remembered or until they saw Richard. He had to take a chance, and he risked what all the fears in his head were screaming. "No, Reba, he wasn't here. It was just you and me and Richard Yolks. You remember him?" Reba nodded her head, the tears pouring from her eyes a little faster. "We…uh…well, you fell asleep at the park…and I brought you back here…I thought you were still asleep, Reba." Brock could feel his own tears welling up, and tried to fight them off. "I started to watch that video you found…and well, I guess you came in the room and watched it, too." He shouldn't be telling her all this. Not without all the answers to her questions. He should have told her to wait for her appointment with Richard, but no matter how hard he tried, he just couldn't stop talking. Reba took a deep breath, listening to Brock as she pieced together parts of both her scenarios. He was helping somewhat, but still; she didn't understand how she could think he was Jeremy. It wasn't adding up for her, and her crying seemed to increase. Brock tried holding onto her as tightly as he could, hoping it would comfort her. He didn't need the kids walking into the living room with their mother like this. "Reba, Honey, it'll be ok. I'm not leaving again. I'll be with you, ok?" She nodded her head, and forced the tears to stop, hoping to save them for later. She needed to get it together, at least, a little bit. She sighed, wiping her cheeks and pulling away from him slightly. Brock stared at her, wishing their conversation didn't revolve around last night. He'd much rather have her laughing and teasing him than crying and doubting him. He sighed, looking down to his lap, and held back his own tears, reminding himself once again that she needed him.

Reba glanced around the room slightly amazed at all the damaged that had been done. She'd at least have something to keep her mind busy with for an hour or two. She ran a shaky hand through her hair, her body still feeling heavier than usual. "I'm sorry, Brock." She kept her eyes moving along the room, not wanting to see the look on his face. She wanted to be alone right now, just wanted to think over everything he had told her. Apparently, it had been one hell of a night. She sighed, finally catching his worried stare.

"What for? None of this was your fault, Reba." She shook her head, glancing away again. Brock watched her, wondering what was going on in her head. Reba stood up slowly, picking up a quilt and folding it messily. Brock rose to his feet, gently grabbing the blanket from her. He re-folded it, tossing it to the couch behind them.

"Yeah, well, I could have stopped it. I should have known…" Her voice trailed off and she mumbled the last of her thought. "…if I wasn't so stupid." Brock froze in what he was doing, and everything hit him once again. He fully understood how important going to the cabin would be for her. She needed to be somewhere that reminded her of everything she was. The good qualities needed to be brought back to the surface of her mind. She could use a dose of peace and happiness. He sighed, gently turning her towards him. With their voices still hushed, he ventured into telling her about his plan.

"Maybe we should get away for a little while. Go somewhere that is…away from here and your house…your work. Richard suggested it'd help." Reba stared back at him, completely convinced he'd beaten her to insanity, and shook her head moments later. "I think we should do this, Reba. The kids will be fine. They have my mother and Barbra Jean. It'll only be for a few weeks." He was trying miserably to convince her, and he could tell it would take a lot more effort and creativeness on his part.

"No, they need me, Brock. I can't just leave them alone, knowing that _he_ is still out there somewhere! I mean, I could barely let Cheyenne and Van go back home as it was. No. It's too much. I'm not going anywhere." She shook her head again, forcing back her fears and the water forming in her eyes. She was perfectly capable of getting better here. She didn't need to go far away, and leave her kids without her protection. It would not happen. She shook her head again, handing the second blanket to Brock. He took it a second later, but didn't waste time in re-folding it. He simply tossed it to the couch, ignoring it as it fell to the floor by his feet.

"Now, when I say this I mean it with all respect, Reba." He waited a second. "How can you take care of them if every other hour you're…breaking down, finding something from Jeremy, running around the city without anyone knowing, or simply keeping them glued to your side…I don't mean to hurt you with this...if I have, but the best thing for the kids is you getting better. The best way for that to happen is going to the cabin. You know…the one I had with Ralph and Doc?" Reba nodded her head, wiping quickly at her cheeks. He was right to a point, but she wasn't ready to admit everything she was doing was wrong. She was their mother, and it was her job to be there when they needed her. It just so happened that now was one of those times, and she was failing. She couldn't possibly protect them if she wasn't in the right state of mind. She'd probably scared them more than anything. She sighed, and was about to say something when Cheyenne, Bryan, Elizabeth, and Van walked through the front door. Van and Cheyenne stopped dead in their tracks, and pressing his hand against the back of her head, Van kept Elizabeth looking over his shoulder. Cheyenne gripped the baby carrier a little tighter as she took in the sight around her.

"Mr. H, Mrs. H, what's going on?" Van formed his question carefully, trying not to arouse his daughter's curiosity. Cheyenne covered her mouth with her free hand, and nodded her head as she looked between her parents and the mess of the living room. Reba took a deep breath, and looked to her feet. Brock took the lead and passed Reba as he made his way to his kids.

"Uh, why don't I take Elizabeth to the kitchen? I'm sure Henry is up and would love to play." Van and Brock swiftly passed the young girl between them, making sure she didn't see the mess, and Brock gently slipped his hand next to Cheyenne's for baby Bryan. "Hey, Sweetheart, let's play that surprise game Barbra Jean taught you. Ok? You remember how to play?" Elizabeth nodded her head quickly with a small smile on her face. She closed her eyes, and Brock started counting. He darted quickly through the room, making sure he was out of the room before saying five. Elizabeth's laughter could be heard from the other room, and then the kitchen noise stopped. The house held a terrible silence. Reba glanced at the wall that separated the kitchen and the living room. How could Brock leave her at a time like this? Of course, it was a good idea to get Elizabeth out, but he should have come back by now. Reba jumped when she felt her daughter's hand on her shoulder, and turned her head just in time to see the blonde letting out a startled breath.

"Mom, what happened?" Reba bit her bottom lip as she glanced around the room again. Van was standing behind his wife when Reba finally looked back in their direction. They were both so worried. She thought about Brock's offer, and decided she could make something up for now. She realized, though, that other family members might know what really happened. She sighed, slowly sitting down on the couch. She placed her head in her hands, and fought off any tears. Cheyenne joined her mother on the couch, comfortingly placing her hand on her back. "Does it have something to do with you being fired?" At this Van suddenly remembered his conversation with Cheyenne, and wondered if Reba had gotten his voicemail. If she had then this could be a reaction from that, but once he saw the look on his mother-in-law's face, he held his breath, waiting for what came next.

"Wait, what are you talking about?" Reba stared at her daughter, trying to figure out how Cheyenne could think she had been fired. She sat up a little straighter and Cheyenne followed her actions. "I wasn't fired…as far as I know." After a moment of silent thoughts, both women turned their stare to Van. He looked between them, ready for whatever came out. Cheyenne stood up, her eyes narrowing slowly.

"You told me she had been fired, Van." He nodded his head, quickly repeating the statement. "Then why doesn't she know about it? You told me last night that you told her yesterday." He took a deep breath, and glanced over Cheyenne's shoulder to mentally ask for Reba's permission to tell her. She stared back blankly at him. He sighed before deciding he needed to clear things up.

"Yeah, I told you that because your mother didn't want me to tell anyone about our lunch." He looked at Cheyenne, waiting for a second. "Please, don't make me tell you." He whispered it with such a desperate tone that Cheyenne almost let him go, but he had lied to her. She was upset he could have done it so easily. "Honey, I didn't want to lie to you, but I couldn't do that to your mother. I couldn't go back on the promise I made her." His voice got lower and he moved closer to Cheyenne. Reba stood up, watching them with sad eyes. Slowly, she started backing away. "I didn't want her to think she couldn't trust me, Cheyenne. I couldn't do that to her… not at a time like this. I'm so sorry." He waited, hoping that his wife would understand where he was coming from. Cheyenne nodded her head, knowing if things had been different he wouldn't have lied to her. She sighed, still wanting to know what he had held back from her.

"What was so serious; Van, that you couldn't trust me to keep it a secret? I'm your wife. You're supposed to be able to tell me everything. Don't you think I would like to know what's going on with my mom if it involves who I think it does? I mean, really, Van, you didn't have to lie to me." She waited a little bit, and then continued. "You could have just told me that Mom didn't want me to know, yet, and I would have waited to talk to her about it." He nodded his head, realizing he could have gone about it with a different approach. He could have been smarter about it. He sighed, sitting down on the couch and glancing at Reba once again. She looked to her feet, scared of what she was realizing herself. She had caused a fight in their marriage, and all because she wasn't getting any better. She sighed, sitting down on the other couch. Cheyenne took a deep breath, joining Van on his couch.

"Just tell her, Van. I can't let you keep this from her. I never should have asked that from you." Reba kept her eyes off of her children, her legs bouncing slightly. She ran a hand through her hair, and took a deep breath. "Cheyenne, Honey, I'm sorry. I didn't mean…for him to lie to you. I wasn't in the right state of mind." She closed her eyes, fighting back the tears. She couldn't be the mother she needed to be if she was still sick from what Jeremy had done to her. All she was allowing to happen was exactly what Jeremy had wanted. He never intended to hurt her kids himself. He knew she would eventually do this. She felt the tears slip between her eyelids and fell onto her side, burying her face into the folded blanket.

Van took a deep breath, glancing at Cheyenne then back to his mother-in-law, but before he could do anything, Cheyenne had darted to Reba's side. He slowly stood up, watching as daughter comforted mother. "I'll get Mr. H." Van left the room, holding back his tears and fear. Reba held onto her daughter, completely embarrassed to be in this situation.

"Your father thinks we should go to the old cabin." Reba pulled away slightly, wiping at her cheeks continuously. "Do you remember which one I'm talking about?" Cheyenne nodded her head, holding onto one of Reba's hands. She wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her mother closer to her. "What do you think? I mean, he says it could help…would be good for me." Reba played with her daughter's fingers, using it as a way to keep her eyes away from Cheyenne's. The tears continued to fall from her eyes, but at a much slower pace than before.

"Yeah, you should go. I mean, it's worth the try." Reba nodded her head, but before she could say anything else Brock was walking into the room. He squatted so he was eye level with Reba. A moment passed between them before she took a shaky breath and slowly wrapped her arms around his neck. Brock let his arms wind around her waist, and stared at his daughter. Cheyenne stood up, motioning for Van (who had came in with Brock) to follow her into the kitchen.

"Reba, what's wrong? What happened?" She tightened her grip, the comfort from a familiar embrace made it slightly easier to decide. She pulled away from Brock, letting out the breath she was holding. She kept her arms loosely around Brock's neck, and his arms rested on her knees. They would have been comfortable if it wasn't for the mood of the air around them. Both tried to ignore it, instead focusing on the other one's eyes.

"I think you're right about taking that trip, Brock. I can't…help them and protect them if I'm not better." She paused, making sure he was following her. When he nodded that he understood, she continued. "I just caused a fight between Cheyenne and Van. I put Van in a situation where he had to lie to her. I can't do that anymore, Brock. I can't stay here and let my kids hurt because I can't deal with things." She felt the tears coming again and moved back into his embrace. Brock held tightly onto her, and tried comforting words to soothe her.

"Hey, hey, hey, it's fine, Reba. The kids know you love them. They know you don't mean it, ok? We just need to focus on helping you. They know that, too, and they want nothing more than to help you right now. So, let's do that, ok? We'll go to the cabin for a few weeks…just the two of us…" Reba continued to nod her head, and listened as he told her what they had to do today. He had roughly made out their entire day, and she was thankful that he could handle everything. "So, you ready to get going? We should probably tell our bosses first. What do you think?" Reba stood up, her back facing Brock as she walked a few steps away.

"I was fired, Brock. It doesn't matter where I go now…or how long _I_ stay. I don't have a job…" She turned back around to him, and shrugged her shoulders, a small defeated smile across her lips. "I guess I'll start cleaning up while you talk to…Anna." She swallowed the lump in her throat, and wiped her hands nervously on her pants. "You still have a job, and I don't want you to ruin that over me." Her voice shook a little, causing her to look away. Brock nodded his head, wanting to hold her again, but afraid now wasn't a good time. She had always been one for having her space and time alone. He knew how much it helped when she needed to accept what was going on around her. He sighed, unsure of what to do.

Reba could feel his eyes on her back, and tried busying herself with the couch cushions. "Ok. Then I'll make a few phone calls. If you want…we'll talk about it later." He waited for a response, but sighed when she gave him a quick smile and short nod of her head. It would be one long day. He left the living room, walking into the kitchen. He started to call Anna when he caught his mother's stare. Deciding slowly, he hung up the phone. Elizabeth passed a plate of food in his direction, and he gratefully took it.

"So, has she agreed to go, yet?" Brock nodded his head, glancing in the direction of the living room. He took another bite before carrying the plate out of the kitchen. He motioned for his mother to wait, and disappeared from her sight a second later. Elizabeth sighed, starting another grilled cheese. Brock moved around the couch, stopping next to Reba. She sat on the floor, one hand closed tightly and pressed against her chest. Brock set the plate down on the coffee table, which had been placed upright again.

"I cut my hand." Reba chuckled a little, pointing towards the pile of glass behind Brock. He turned to look, and joined her on the floor. "I don't know how I managed to do it, but I did." She took a deep breath, sitting a little straighter when Brock reached for her hand. She opened her hand, showing him the deep cut.

"Oh, I could fix that. You know, I am a doctor." He smiled at her as she rolled her eyes. Reba pulled her hand away, bringing it back to her chest. She could feel the tension rising slowly as they talked. She took a deep breath, turning her look towards him.

"You're a dentist, Brock." He chuckled a little before pushing the plate closer to her. "HEY! You ate some of it." Brock rolled his eyes, trying to hide the smile that played on his lips. He tried to ignore the awkwardness filling the room, and played along for a few more minutes.

"Yeah, well, I'm starving. Besides, I had to make sure Cheyenne hadn't made it. You're having a bad enough day as it is. So, you eat and I'll be back in a minute to wrap your hand." Reba nodded her head, already reaching for the sandwich with her good hand. "I expect to see that all gone when I get back…." He stated in a firm, joking voice. Reba giggled a little then nodded her head just as firmly as his voice had been. They both knew it wouldn't be an easy trip, but they also knew how stubborn they both were. Reba glanced up at him, a small smile dancing across her lips.

"Or what? You'll ground me?" She raised an eyebrow, tempting him to continue. He shook his head, saying he would have to finish it. He left the redhead, laughing and eating, as he walked back into the kitchen. The tension was still in the room, which made their joking uncomfortable and corny, and he felt a little more pressure piling onto his shoulders. He could only imagine how Reba was feeling, and sighed as he walked to his mother. Elizabeth flipped his sandwich onto his plate before handing it out to him. Brock once again took his lunch, smiling as he took the first bite. When his mother asked if they'd want more, Brock simply shook his head.

"No, I think we'll need to get going soon. I still need to make a few phone calls." He paused, staring at his mother for a minute. "I know I didn't really get the chance to explain it all to you a few minutes ago, but I'm not completely sure how I'm gonna do this." Elizabeth stopped her son, having a few words for him.

"Sweetheart, it's not just you that's doing this, and it's not just Reba either. It's all of us. We've all agreed whether it's been out loud or just a simple understanding that we want to help. So, you've got to explain that to her. We all do. Ok? The kids, Barbra Jean, and I all know what we have to do before y'all leave. Don't you worry about a thing. Everything will be taken care of here." Brock smiled at his mother, setting his food to the side, and asking her to pass the first aid kit. Elizabeth gave him a concerned look before grabbing it out of the cabinet behind her.

"Reba cut her hand on a piece of glass. I'm gonna wrap it before helping her clean up some." Elizabeth nodded her head, just as Barbra Jean came inside from the backyard. She had taken the kids outside for lunch, knowing the adults would need some moments alone. Brock smiled at her before grabbing his plate and the first aid kit, and left the room.

Anna walked into her office, closing the door behind her. The first half of her day had been busy, and she relished in the fact she could finally take a lunch break. She had been waiting for a moment when she could look through her father's old office, hoping there would be some remain of the man she'd loved dearly. She knew her chances of finding anything would be slim since her brother had taken over the office. He'd probably had it cleaned from top to bottom. She sighed, kicking her heels off and enjoying a few seconds of comfort. Anna took a deep breath, slowing scanning the books that lined the walls. She stopped, her fingers running over the spine of a new book. It looked out of place against the dusty fading books surrounding it. She pulled it, with the tip of her index finger at the top of the spine, off the self, and carried it back to her clean desk, her eyebrows blending together with confusion. She leaned back in her chair, placing her legs on her desk and crossing them at her ankles, and began to open it.

Anna looked up when her desk phone blared its annoying ring, bringing her back to work. She sighed, setting the book to the side as her feet fell to the floor. She placed a smile across her lips and settled the phone between her neck and cheek. "This is Anna. Yes?" Anna waited for the secretary on the other end to announce who was calling, and allowed the call to come through. She sighed as the call was switched over. "Dr. Hart, what may I help you with?" Anna returned the smile to her lips, her eyes tracing the scribbles of letters written on the cover of the book.

_"Uh, well, I was hoping to get a few more days off work. I know I already have today and tomorrow, but I need more time off. I…ugh…had a family emergency come up." Brock's voice sounded almost distracted, and Anna wondered what exactly had happened. She pressed her luck, and asked a few questions. "Well, Reba's…ugh, she's really gonna need me the next few weeks. She's recently experienced a…well, more than one traumatic event lately, and the doctor thinks it would be helpful if we left town for a few weeks. I hope you don't mind. I'd really appreciate the time off." Brock cleared his throat, his voice lowering with each word he'd said. Anna took a deep breath, thinking of everything she had learned since she'd arrived in Houston. _

"Well, Dr. Hart, I can definitely give you that time off only if you can find someone to take the hours you'd have been working. I doubt that'll be any trouble for you. Everyone seems to like you here." She listened as Brock sighed, silence filling the line for a minute. She took a deep breath herself, her curiosity getting the better of her. "You know what? On second thought, I'll find someone for you. I can certainly understand the stress and heartache that comes with a family emergency. And on a more personal level, I hope you'll tell Reba that I wish her all the best with this trip. From what I know about her from the few times we've met, she seemed like a wonderful person. If there is anything, besides giving you the time off, that I can do to help…don't hesitate to let me know." She could almost see Brock nodding his head as she listened to his breathing hitch slightly.

_"Yeah, I'll do that, and thank you for the time off. Reba's last relationship wasn't the best and I think this time away is exactly what she needs. I'm praying it'll bring her back to us…her family needs her." Anna's ears perked up at his comment, her mind instantly turning to Jeremy. Brock's one sentence was really all she needed, but still it couldn't be possible. Reba had to know how to fool people. That was what it was. Jeremy was right. He had to be. She took a deep breath, her smile gone from her face. _

"Oh, no problem, Brock. You take all the time you need. I hope y'all the best of luck." Anna finished her conversation with Brock, hanging the phone up quickly. She bit her finger nail as she thought with a blank expression across her face. Nothing was adding up the way she wanted it to, but maybe this was a sign for her. She didn't know what it was supposed to be telling her, but she knew she'd figure it out soon enough. She checked her watch, picking her desk phone up again. She dialed a familiar number, knowing who would pick up on the other end. "Hey, Honey." Anna smiled reflexively when Kyle's voice carried through the phone.


	13. Chapter 12

Brock took a deep breath as he folded a pair of his jeans, shoving them into a suitcase. He glanced at Reba, who stood on the other side of the bed staring blankly at her empty suitcase. "What are you thinking about, Reba?" Brock casually asked, staring at the redhead. Reba smiled softly at him, shaking her head before disappearing into the bathroom. Brock sighed, moving to her side of the bed and slipping her folded clothes into her bag. He paused momentarily when a pair of arms wrapped around him from behind. He stood up straighter, resting his arms on top of hers.

"Thank you, Brock." She whispered as her cheek rested against his back. Brock closed his eyes, whispering back to her. He felt her arms pulling away from him, and slowly let go, turning around to face her. "Do you think the kids understand what's happening?" She was still whispering, almost like she was afraid to be so vulnerable. He sighed, sitting down on the bed and watching as she moved to join him.

"I think the kids do understand…as much as they need to right now. They'll be fine, Reba." She nodded her head, letting out a deep breath. She leaned over, resting her head on his shoulder. Brock wrapped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her a little closer to him. "You're doing the right thing. I promise…everything will work out….everything will be ok." Reba closed her eyes, forcing away tears. She wanted to believe him, but it was tough to do. They sat like that for a minute longer before Reba stood up, and walked back into the bathroom without a word. Brock stared at the empty doorway, trying to decide if he needed to go after her. He shook his head, moving back to his side of the bed.

They still had a lot to do before they could leave for the cabin, and he knew with each minute that passed Reba was becoming more and more doubtful of their decision. He had to get them on the road before she convinced herself to stay. He finished packing his bag, and told her he was heading downstairs if she needed him. Reba came back into the room as he was walking out, shoving a bathroom bag into her suitcase before zipping it up and following him out of the bedroom. "So, we're going to see Richard first, and then we're driving to your work so you can get your things. After that I think we'll be headed to the cabin…Is that okay with you?" Reba nodded her head, glancing around the kitchen as she continued to follow Brock. He stopped just before they entered the living room, catching her attention. "Are you ok?"

Reba smiled at him, nodding her head quickly. "Yeah, I'm just tired. Ready to get this over with so I can get back home to my babies." Reba let out a deep breath, making sure to keep her eyes on Brock's. He nodded his head, and then led the way into the living room where the rest of the family was cleaning. Reba frowned at the sight, wishing Brock would have let her help out more than she did. It was her mess and she should be the one cleaning it. "I'm sorry, guys. Next time I freak out I'll try not to make such a mess." She smiled at her family, catching the attempted laughter from a few of them. Hopefully when she got back they'd all be able to joke again. She sighed, passing her suitcase to Brock, and then one by one said goodbye to her children, Barbra Jean, and Elizabeth.

Barbra Jean held her hug a little longer, ignoring the redhead's pleas for air. "Oh, Reba, I'm gonna miss you, but you need to do this. It's the right thing." Barbra Jean let her go, but kept her hands on Reba's upper arms. "Don't worry about the kids, okay? I'll watch them like a hawk...or a physco...whichever one comforts you more." Barbra Jean smiled, nodding her head proudly. Reba gave her a worried smile, turning her head to glance at Brock who was chuckling by the door. "Reba, I'm serious. Everything will be fine, and I want you to know that I support this trip...every one of us do." Reba nodded her head, wanting to move away from Barbra Jean. She was slightly concerned all this talking would scare her into staying, and when she locked her eyes on Brock's again, she could tell he had the same concern. Barbra Jean wrapped her arms around Reba once again, holding on tighter and tighter until Reba let loose a small squeal.

Brock quickly darted to their side, pulling Reba free and placing his body between Reba and Barbra Jean. "Uh, I think it's time we head out." Brock turned around to face Reba, studying her for a minute. "I just have one more thing to grab, and then I'll be ready. Why don't you go ahead and get in the car? It'll only take me a minute." Reba nodded her head, taking a deep breath. She hesitated, glancing at each family member before turning to leave the house. Elizabeth followed Reba, slipping her arm into the small space between Reba's arm and her body.

"Reba, I want to tell you something before you leave." Reba nodded her head, slowing her pace so she and Elizabeth would have more time to talk. "When you get to this cabin, don't think about anyone else." Reba was confused for a moment, unsure how to take what her ex-mother-in-law was telling her. Elizabeth sighed, stopping to face Reba. "What I mean by that is…you listen to what your heart is telling you. Don't let anything that the kids, Brock, Barbra Jean, myself…that Jackass…don't let anything we've said or done affect how you think while you're gone. Just focus on you. You understand what I'm telling you?" Reba thought for a moment, taking in one word at a time, before nodding her head. Elizabeth smiled at her before taking a deep breath. "You always were a smart girl…still are." Elizabeth pulled Reba into a hug before dragging her to the car, giving her a short to-do's list once they got to their final destination.

"Oh, and a few more things, Reba." Elizabeth stood outside Brock's truck, holding the door opened as she talked with Reba, who sat in the passenger seat. "No one thinks less of you for leaving...no one is judging you for this. We all understand." Reba nodded her head, trying not to look away. Why couldn't they just let her leave? All these words of wisdom were just reminding her of what a big deal this trip was, and just how much pressure she had to get back to her old self. Reba sighed as she watched Elizabeth close the door, and head back up the driveway for the house. Reba closed her eyes, taking a deep breath and wishing Brock would hurry up. She needed to leave now, or she was going to lose all of her self-control and run back inside. Slowly Reba opened her eyes, turning to look outside as she waited. Suddenly she screamed, slapping the window as her legs drew up to her body. She yelled at the blonde on the other side as she tried to calm her heartbeat. Barbra Jean apologized and motioned for Reba to roll down her window.

"Sorry! I didn't mean to scare you." Reba glared at her, still attempting to return her breathing and heartbeat back to normal. "Anyways, before Brock comes out here...I wanted to give you this." Barbra Jean slipped her hand inside the truck, looking over her shoulder to make sure Brock hadn't noticed she was out here. Reba reached her hand out, taking the cell phone from Barbra Jean.

"Why are you giving me this? We'll have Brock's phone, and I could have sworn I packed mine in my purse..." Reba grabbed her purse from the floor board, and searched through it, coming up empty handed. "Where's my phone?"

"Brock took it out. He was telling us that y'all aren't taking any phones because he wants you to be able to fully concentrate on yourself and your health. He doesn't want you to have any temptations in calling the kids." Reba's mouth fell open, and she looked towards the house as if to glare at Brock. Barbra Jean nodded her head, speaking quickly. "Oh yeah, but apparently I know you better than him because I know that you cannot go weeks without speaking to your kids...or at least checking up on them...so that's why I'm giving you my phone. Keep it secret and every now and then we can check up on each other, okay?" Reba nodded her head, realizing that meant she couldn't yell at Brock. She took a deep breath, slipping the phone into her boot where Brock would never notice it.

"Thanks, Barbra Jean. I'll owe ya one, okay?" The blonde nodded her head, and quickly yet sneakily ran back to the house. Reba shook her head, chuckling softly at her friend. As soon as Barbra Jean had safely made it back into the house, Brock was walking out of the front door. Reba took a deep breath, double checked the phone, and buckled her seatbelt.

Anna pulled into her driveway, her thoughts focused on the book she had found in her father's old office. She hadn't had the time to look at it at work, and she couldn't wait to see what story it held inside. Her father had always had good taste in books, and she figured this one was probably the last one he had read before he passed away. She took a deep breath, shutting off her car and grabbing the book from the passenger seat. She raced inside, started a pot of tea, and then sat down at the kitchen table to glance over the cover while she waited for her tea.

A few minutes later, she was nestled on her couch with a mug of hot tea and the book. She took a sip before setting her drink on the end table next to the couch. She took a deep breath, beginning to open the book. She furrowed her eye brows when the book opened in the middle, revealing a hidden video tape. She sat up slowly, pulling the tape free of its containment. Anna glanced around her living room, suddenly afraid that someone was watching her, but when she finally managed to convince herself that she was alone, she moved to her television, popping the tape into the VCR player. She took a deep breath as she pressed play, hoping that it would hold something good rather than something bad. She sat on the floor as the image on the tape flashed upon the screen.

Jeremy sat in front of his laptop, smiling and chuckling to himself every now and then. He shook his head from happiness before standing up. He grabbed his jacket and car keys, whistling a little as he began to leave his room. "So, My Dear, just a few more days…Hope you're ready." He chuckled to himself again before shutting the bedroom door behind him and marching down the hallway. He rolled his eyes when he saw Kyle sitting on the couch, watching the news. "I'm going to the park for a bit. I need to get out of the house." Kyle nodded his head before returning his attention to the news. He was glad Jeremy was leaving. He hated having him stay here, and he wished more than anything that Anna would come home.

When Kyle heard the front door slam shut, he jumped to his feet. Anna had told him earlier that she wasn't sure her brother was as innocent in his last relationship as he had told them, and Kyle was worried that Anna was sticking her nose in something that Jeremy would much rather keep quiet. Kyle glanced out the window, watching as Jeremy pulled out of the driveway and drove down the street. Kyle straightened his shirt before easing down the hallway. He was nervous, wasn't too sure he wanted to snoop through Jeremy's things, but knew if he didn't help Anna then she would get hurt. He slowly opened the guest bedroom door, peeking inside the room. Taking another deep breath, he slipped into the room.

The room was spotless, even the dirty clothes hamper was empty. Kyle started with the dressers, carefully searching through clothes for any hidden clues. His search led him around the room until he came across the laptop sitting on the desk in the far corner of the room. Kyle sat down in the desk chair taking a moment before touching the mouse pad. He was shocked when a slide show of pictures resumed its mini-movie. He watched as one horrible picture after another flashed before his eyes, and as much as he hated to, he found himself watching until the last picture had been shown. He quickly moved away from the laptop, wiping his eyes and face. He couldn't believe what he had just seen in the pictures. He darted from the bedroom, racing to his cell phone. He glanced out the window again, his heart rate increasing with each ring.

Reba walked into her office building, glad that most of the realtors had gone home for the day. She glanced over her shoulder, checking to see if Brock was still following her. He smiled at her, reaching for her hand and squeezing it with support. She smiled back at him, and led him to her desk. She sighed as sat down in her chair to open her drawers. Brock glanced around the office, noticing a few last minute deals being negotiated. His eyes landed on a man walking towards them. He quietly got Reba's attention, and took a deep breath when she rolled her eyes. "My boss." He nodded his head, starting to help her pack the small box they had brought with them.

"Ms. Hart." Reba grinned slightly as she glanced at her boss. She could tell he had something to say, and only prayed it wouldn't be anything too hurtful. Brock noticed the worry in her eyes, and stood up a little straighter. He smiled to himself when her boss hesitantly glanced in his direction before taking a step backwards. "May I speak to you in my office for a moment? I need to discuss some important information with you." Reba changed her stare from Mr. Jones to Brock, unsure if she could handle it at the moment. Brock shrugged his shoulders, allowing her to make the decision on her own.

"Uh, well, we had some place to be, Mr. Jones. How long will this take?" Brock glanced between Reba and her boss as they talked, nodding his head when Reba asked him to wait at her desk. He watched as they walked into her boss's office, shutting the door behind them. He kept his eyes locked on the door, and felt his nerves raise with each minute that passed by. When the door opened and Reba walked out, he felt his body relax and a sigh of relief escape his lips. She didn't seem to be upset about anything, and as she walked back to her desk, he put the last of her things in the box. She smiled when she stood next to him, pushing her chair closer to her desk. "I've got great news, Brock. Let's go so I can tell you!" Brock smiled at the excitement in her voice, and followed her back to the car.

Anna felt tears fill her eyes as she stared at her television screen. Her father was sitting at his desk in his office, signing off on some papers. She smiled sadly at his image, missing him terribly. She sighed when he looked up, and then frowned when she saw Jeremy enter the room. She couldn't hear what they were saying, but she could tell they were arguing over something. Her eyes widened when her father jumped to his feet, slamming his hands onto the top of the desk hard enough to shake the lamp sitting on top of it. Jeremy waved away their father's anger, standing up slowly. He casually paced around the room, talking calmly to their father. Anna took a deep breath when her father fell back into his chair, seeming to think over whatever Jeremy had stated. Jeremy moved to the bookcase behind her father's chair, continuing to talk. She wished she could hear what they were saying.

Jeremy turned around, facing their father. Anna watched as Jeremy laughed softly, placing one hand on the top of their father's chair. His other hand slipped into his pocket, pulling out an object that Anna could barely make out. She gasped and jumped slightly when Jeremy stabbed a needle into their father's neck. She continued to watch as her father convulsed before finally falling face first onto his desk. She screamed at the television, tears pouring from her eyes. Did she really just see her brother kill her father?

Anna quickly shut the tape off, not wanting to watch another second of the video. She stood up, pacing her living room and wiping at her cheeks. She took a deep breath, realizing that her brother might not be a good guy. Why hadn't she ever seen it before? Why didn't she believe her brother's best friend years ago when he tried to warn her? Anna fell onto her couch, running her hands through her hair. If Jeremy had been able to kill their father then he definitely had what it took to defend himself against Reba. Anna closed her eyes, shaking her head. Jeremy hadn't been the one who needed defending. It had been Reba, and now that everything was falling into place, Anna couldn't help but feel slightly guilty. By being around Reba she had probably made matters worse. That is, if the woman had figured out whom she was. ?xml:namespace prefix = o ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:office" /

Anna turned her head slightly, her cell phone ring catching her attention. She prayed it wasn't Jeremy as she moved to answer it, and sighed in relief when she saw Kyle's name on the screen. She answered it quietly, closing her eyes when his concerned voice reached out to her.

Brock pulled out of the parking lot, smiling as he watched Reba practically bounce in her seat. "So, are you going to tell me or keep me in suspense?" Reba jumped slightly at his voice before smiling at him. Brock returned his eyes to the road, pulling into late afternoon traffic.

"Where's a phone? I have got to call Van! He's gonna be so excited." Reba squealed as she searched around them for a cell phone. Brock's smile dropped from his lips as he realized the moment he was dreading had finally caught up to him. Reba stopped looking long enough to glance in his direction. She returned her eyes to him when she noticed the look on his face. "What? What's wrong?" Reba took a deep breath, remembering what Barbra Jean had told her in the driveway. She glanced slightly to her small suitcase at her feet where she had hidden Barbra Jean's phone. Brock tried to put a smile back on his lips, but he failed. He took a deep breath, bracing himself for whatever reaction he might get.

"I didn't bring one." Reba's eyebrows shot upwards, hidden by her bangs. Suddenly remembering her conversation with Barbra Jean, Reba took a deep breath. She glanced slightly to her small suitcase at her feet, her current hiding place for Barbra Jean's phone. She returned to stare to Brock, and continued to look annoyed. He expected her to be mad after all, and she really didn't want him finding out about her secret phone. Brock bit his lip as he tried to keep his attention on the road and off the slightly fuming redhead. He took a deep breath, realizing she was waiting for an explanation. "Well, I figured it would be better if you didn't have the temptation to call the kids every five minutes. I mean…" Reba slowly relaxed her face, falling back into her seat. Brock frowned, noticing the loss of excitement. He hated to have done that to her. He sighed, his voice just above a whisper. "I'm sorry, Reba."

"It's not your fault, Brock. I should have seen that one coming." She sat up again, staring out the window for a minute before returning her attention to Brock. "You still wanna hear the good news?" She was smiling again, and Brock couldn't help but smile back at her. He nodded his head, chuckling when her excitement overtook her disappointment. Reba took a deep breath, hoping to lead him away from the phone situation. He'd eventually get suspicious if she didn't.

Anna sat back down on her couch, staring at the blue screen of her television. "He killed him, Kyle." She took a deep breath. "My brother…killed my father." Her tears began pouring from her eyes again. She hadn't just lost her father, but he had been taken from her. She took a deep breath, trying to gain some composure.

"Anna, Honey, what are you talking about? How do you know?" Kyle's voice brought her back to the conversation and Anna wiped her cheeks slowly.

"I was looking through my dad's books in his office today, and I found one that seemed fairly new so I brought it home to read. Well, when I went to open it I found a video tape inside it. I watched it…and…and it's Jeremy killing my dad." Anna held back the tears, attempting to stay strong. If her brother was capable of hurting her father and Reba then he certainly wouldn't hesitate to do the same to her or Kyle. Anna's eyes widen when she realized that Kyle and Jeremy were now living together. She jumped to her feet, pacing her living room. "Kyle, you have to get out of there! He could hurt you!"

"Don't worry. I'm going to book a flight to Houston when I get to work." Kyle checked outside once again, his nerves almost worse than his wife's. "I always knew something was weird about your brother."

Anna rolled her eyes, having heard him say that on several occasions. She bit her bottom lip, nervously glancing around her living room. "I think I'm going to stay at a hotel tonight…I don't want to be here by myself." She listened as Kyle agreed, and slowly moved down the hallway to her bedroom to pack a small bag.

"Anna, I'm sorry to hear about your dad. I know that's gotta be hard to see. I'll be there with you as soon as I can, okay?" Anna nodded her head, too nervous to speak into her phone. Kyle took a deep breath, calmly calling out her name. "I was looking around his room today…since I was worried about what you had told me earlier….I found something on his laptop. Pictures…Um, is his ex-girlfriend a redhead?"

Anna froze at his question, a horrible chill washing over her. "Um, yeah…why?" Kyle sighed heavily, and Anna could almost see him running a hand through his hair. She closed her eyes when he began describing the pictures to her. They were of Reba and Jeremy on a bed with Reba completely out of it and posed in whatever position Jeremy had wanted. Anna sat down on her bed, her face going pale. This was too much information about her brother for her to take in at one time. She closed her eyes, and took a deep breath. Kyle was quiet, and Anna knew he was just as upset about all of this as she was.

"Anna, you stay safe, ok? Don't do anything else tonight. Just go to the hotel and stay there until I get to Houston." Anna said that she would, and reluctantly hung up the phone with her husband. She had heard the blinds of their living room window open and close, and the panic in his voice when he had spoken to her. Jeremy was home, and as Anna stared at her cell phone, she prayed over and over that her husband would be all right until the morning.

Reba turned her body more towards Brock, her smile growing just before she started to tell him her good news. "Ok, so you know I went to talk to my boss…" Brock nodded his head, waiting patiently for her to continue. "Well, he explained to me that he hadn't wanted to fire me, right?" Brock nodded his head, his own excitement growing as he listened to Reba talk. "He had just needed to make a big scene blah, blah, blah…Anyways, he told me that he and Dolly…as in Dolly Majors…THE Dolly Majors…you know…the Dolly Parton of real estate..." Brock chuckled softly, glancing between the road and the woman to his right. "They had been talking, and Dolly had said she really wants me to work for her company so he fired me so I'd be able to go work for her! Isn't that awesome? Oh, she also wants Van so she's hoping I'll be able to convince him to switch to her company…and with knowing Van I don't think that should be too hard…seeing as he misses our girl talk in the mornings." Brock's chuckle soon turned into laughter as Reba continued to ramble on, not really sure what she was talking about anymore. "What?" She finally asked when she noticed his laughter.

"You are funny, Reba. I'm happy for you." Reba smiled, blushing slightly. It was the best news she'd gotten in months, and she felt a little bit of her troubles disappear. Maybe things were starting to look up and change for the better? Maybe she had already hit rock bottom and it was now time for her to climb back up? "What do you say we celebrate with dinner….that way you can also use their phone to call Van and tell him the good news?" Reba's eyes widened and she nodded her head immediately. Brock smiled at her, shaking his head as he returned his eyes to the road. Reba turned up the radio, singing along to whatever song was playing.


	14. Chapter 13

Anna entered her hotel room, dropping her bag by the door. She took a deep breath, glancing out the peep hole to make sure no one had followed her to her room. She eased to the bed, sitting down and staring at her image in the mirror on the wall next to the television. "All right Anna, you have a decision to make here." She took a deep breath, whispering to herself. She was afraid to move or speak any louder. "You can either help Jeremy…or you can help Reba." She slowly ran a hand through her hair, feeling tears well up in her eyes. It shouldn't be such a difficult choice to make, and on her way here she had thought she knew what she was going to do.

Anna removed her eyes from the mirror, letting them fall to her lap. She rubbed her hands down her thighs, trying to ease her nerves. When she flipped her hands over, her eyes focused on the scar along her palm. She ran a finger over it, remembering how much trouble Jeremy had gotten into for cutting their hands. She sighed, lowering her hand and shaking her head. Jeremy was her older brother, and he had done everything to protect her and keep her happy her whole childhood. Could she really turn against him now? Could she believe that he wasn't the hero but the villain instead? Anna closed her eyes, falling backwards on to the bed. She had no choice in this. She had to do the right thing, didn't she?

She took a deep breath, running her hands through her hair. Suddenly, a memory came flooding back to her from long ago. It was a fight between Jeremy and his best friend, Leroy Hensley, about Leroy's sister. Anna jumped to her feet, her breathing increasing with each second. Leroy had accused Jeremy of raping and tormenting his sister. When she had asked Jeremy about it later that night, he had simply told her that Leroy was heartbroken from his sister's suicide and had needed someone to blame for it. Anna took a deep breath before leaving the hotel room. She had something she needed to do before Kyle got to Houston.

Reba took a deep breath as she and Brock stopped at the small convenience store just a few miles from the cabin. She followed Brock inside, glancing over the small list of items they needed in order to stay at the cabin. Brock smiled encouragingly at her before reaching for her hand. Reba smiled back at him, slipping her hand around his. "So, we just need a few items for now, and later in the week, once we've settled in, we can get some more stuff, okay?" Reba nodded her head, taking a hand basket from Brock and following him up and down the aisles.

"Let's just get some cheese, butter, and bread. I could make grilled cheeses. We can get the rest of the groceries later. We'll probably need to clean up a bit so I think a few cleaning supplies would be necessary, too." Brock placed the groceries in her basket, nodding his head as she talked. They quietly walked around the store, finding what they needed quickly. They were both tired and ready to get to the cabin for the night. Brock chuckled when Reba slipped a big bag of mini candy bars into her basket before leading the way to the cashier.

"I thought you said just cheese, butter, and bread for now?" Reba glanced over her shoulder at him, smirking at his comment.

"Hey, with what I've been through I think a little chocolate is understandable. Oh, we'll need coffee and milk, too." Brock shook his head at her, turning around to get their last minute items. Reba smiled at the cashier, placing the items on the counter as she waited for Brock.

Ten minutes later they were turning off the main road onto a dirt road, and they both knew they were almost there. "How you feeling?" Brock asked quietly, unsure if he could take forcing her to stay if she wasn't comfortable with it. Reba smiled slightly, studying the trees around them.

"I'm okay. It's a little scary, but…I'm okay." Brock nodded his head, removing his right hand from the steering wheel and holding onto her left hand as they drove for another five minutes before pulling into the driveway of the large old cabin. "Oh, man, I forgot how beautiful it is here." Reba stared at the log cabin, slipping slowly out of the truck. Brock smiled at her, shutting off the vehicle and moving to the back to grab their suitcases.

"Yeah, you always did enjoy coming up here this time of year." Reba snapped out of her trance, and grabbed her purse and suitcase from the floor board before following Brock to the cabin. He opened the door, letting her walk past him as he held it opened. Reba stopped in the living room, looking around as old memories raced back to her. Her eyes filled with tears and a watery smile stretched across her lips. Brock was worried for a minute when he saw her reaction, and set the suitcases on the floor before gently touching her arm. Reba jumped slightly, chuckling at herself.

"Sorry. Just memories." She smiled at him, setting her suitcase down and letting her purse fall into the chair next to her. The room hadn't changed since she had last visited, and she was completely glad that it hadn't. It was comforting to finally have a place where only good memories existed. Brock nodded his head, watching Reba for a few seconds longer.

"Memories, huh?" He asked quietly, remembering a few trips as he glanced around the room. Reba nodded her head, pointing to the far corner of the room.

"That's where we would put the Christmas tree up during our group vacations and over there was where Cheyenne learned to tie her shoes." Reba took a deep breath, pausing a minute to remember her daughter's excitement. "Um, Kyra lost her first tooth after Ralph's son, Tyler, pushed her down for calling him a big cry baby." Brock chuckled softly, shaking his head as he remembered the rest of that night. "There're just a lot of really good memories here, Brock. I'm glad we came." Brock smiled at her comment, pulling her closer for a hug. Reba returned his hug, taking a deep breath as her anxiousness left for the time being.

Brock cleared his throat before bending down to pick up their suitcases. "Uh, I thought that you could have our old room, and I'd sleep next door in Ralph's room. Is that okay?" Reba slowly nodded her head, her attention drifting away from the memories and back to reality. She glanced down the hallway, fighting back the fears of sleeping alone. She'd eventually have to learn to do it again at some point. Now would be as good a time as any. "Once we get settled in a bit more, I'll check for firewood." Reba's attention shot to Brock, and as she registered his words, she felt a chill spread up and down her body.

"Now that you mention it, it is a little chilly in here. Was it always so cold up here?" Reba wrapped her arms around her body, rubbing her hands along her arms for warmth. Brock nodded his head, glancing around the cabin living room.

"Yeah, that was really the only negative thing about this place." Reba nodded her head in agreement, letting silence wash over the cabin. "Oh, shoot, the groceries are still in the car." Brock, once again, set down the suitcases before turning to leave the cabin. Reba watched him for a minute before grabbing her suitcases and heading down the hall for their old room. She slowly pushed the door opened, easing into the room. She tossed her suitcases onto the bed, opening the small pocket that held Barbra Jean's phone. As she turned it on, she quickly checked the hallway for Brock. When she didn't see him, she shut the door and focused her attention on the phone.

"Uh, Reba?" Brock's loud voice echoed down the hallway, causing Reba to jump. She placed a hand over her heart and tried to calm her breathing. Maybe it wasn't a good idea to bring a phone with her? It was too stressful trying to not get caught with it. "I'm going out for firewood, okay? I'll be right back. I'm taking one of the walkie-talkies with me." Reba tossed the phone to her bed before sticking her head into the hallway.

"Ok! Uh, just set the other one in the kitchen. I was gonna start dinner soon." Brock yelled an 'okay' before slamming the front door shut behind him. Reba took a deep breath, shaking her head. She turned around, walking back to the bed. She grabbed the phone, sending Barbra Jean a text message stating that they had arrived and were safe. She only had to wait a minute before the blonde sent her one back, saying that everyone there was safe and enjoying a movie before going to bed.

Reba took a deep breath, holding back tears. She could make it a few weeks without her family. She had to be strong now more than ever. They were counting on her to make it through this, and she was determined to do it. She sighed before hiding the phone once again, and leaving the bedroom to start a late dinner.

Anna pulled into a deserted parking lot, shutting down her car and taking a moment to calm her heartbeat. She took a deep breath, quickly climbing out of her car and running to the front door of her office building. She unlocked the door, easing inside the dark building quietly. She pressed the security code in before heading upstairs for her office. There had to be information on Leroy somewhere in the system. He had worked for her father for about five years before he lost his sister. She knew her father was a stickler about keeping up with all recent and past employee information. He never liked to throw anything away. She could only pray Jeremy hadn't changed that since he started working there.

She dropped into her chair, turning on her computer. She tried to ignore the feeling threatening to overtake her as she realized this was the room where Jeremy had killed their father. She took a deep breath, shrugging out of her jacket before typing in the password for her desktop. Twenty minutes later, she found what she was looking for, and smiled at the seven digit number flashing back at her. She quickly wrote the number on her hand before shutting off her computer and leaving the building.

Anna drove to a gas station just down the road from the hotel she was staying in for the night, and parked her car next to the vacant phone booth. She dug in her purse, finding enough change to make one phone call. After slipping in the change, she dialed the number on her hand, praying Leroy still had the same phone number. She sighed when a man's voice tiredly answered the phone. "Uh, yes, I'm sorry to be calling so late, but I was looking for Leroy Hensley." The voice on the other end sighed, and Anna listened as a bed creaked underneath his weight.

"Who's asking?" Anna took a deep breath, clearing her throat as she glanced around the parking lot. Maybe it wasn't a good idea to make this phone call so late? Forcing her fears to the back of her mind, she returned her attention to the conversation.

"This is Anna," She paused, realizing if this was Leroy then he wouldn't recognize her married name. She cleared her throat again, starting over. "This is Anna Shelton. My brother went to school with Mr. Hensley throughout high school and part of college. I really need to ask him some questions. It's really important." Anna tried to hold back on the desperation in her voice, but figured she might need it to win this man over.

"Well, Leroy's not here. Won't be able to talk to him for another five hours in the least." The man mumbled something that Anna couldn't make out; leaving her to wonder if she'd ran into a dead end. Anna took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. She couldn't let this go so easily. There had to be a way to talk with Leroy.

"Can I leave a number where he can reach me at?" Anna smiled slightly when the man grumbled his okay, and quickly told him the number to her hotel room. Hopefully, she'd be able to talk with Leroy before Kyle made it to Houston. If not, then she'd have to find a way to tell her husband. Anna left a message before hanging up the pay phone and darting back to her car. She drove back to the hotel, impatiently awaiting a call back.

Reba took a deep breath as her grip on the walkie-talkie tightened. She could hear noises outside, and was trying not to over react. She kept her back to the kitchen wall, her eyes darting to every corner of the large room. She was safely hidden between the refrigerator and the counter with the empty trash can in front of her. When the front door banged into the other side of the wall, Reba yelped before covering her mouth with her hand. She felt her heartbeat increase as a few loud stomps could be heard coming from the living room. She took another deep breath, holding it as she tried to calm her heartbeat long enough to listen.

"Reba?" She relaxed slightly at Brock's voice, and tried not to get too excited that it was only him. "Honey, where are you?" Standing up slowly, she pushed the trash can out of her way. Brock walked into the kitchen, rain drops falling from his soaked body. Reba smiled at him, trying not to let on that he had just scared her half to death. She slipped the walkie-talkie on the table as Brock stepped out of his boots.

"Did you find any firewood?" Reba sat down at the table, taking a few deep breaths in hopes of calming her trembling body. Brock walked to her side, sitting down in the chair across from her. He nodded his head as he studied her for a minute. Reba looked away from him, afraid he would read the fear in her eyes.

"Are you okay?" Reba nodded her head, fighting the want to bite her bottom lip. She had to be strong. Brock sighed, giving her a look that said he knew she was lying. "Reba, you're shaking. Now, what happened? Please, talk to me." Reba sighed, standing up to walk away. Brock's eyes followed her movement.

"Nothing, okay?"

"No, not okay. I let you slide by with that excuse too many times in the last few months. I can't let another…I just don't want you to bottle it all up until you have another flashback like the one last night." Reba looked over her shoulder at him, and frowned at his black eye. She owed him at least one free pass after beating him up like she had. She sighed, letting her arms fall to her sides, and moved back to the chair across from him.

"You scared me coming inside. See, no big deal." Reba jumped slightly when thunder boomed, causing her cheeks to shade a slight pink. Brock scooted his chair closer to hers, and held onto her hands gently. Reba looked him in the eyes, letting out a frustrated breath.

"It's okay to be scared. It's okay to think he's coming back, and it's okay to not believe anything I'm about to say; but just know you're gonna get past all this." Brock paused, waiting for a sign that Reba was listening. When she took a deep breath and relaxed her shoulder muscles, Brock continued. "I'm not expecting you to come here and then instantly be better. It's not gonna work that fast. I know that. I'm willing to wait as long as it takes, Reba. I'm not gonna leave you or walk away from this. So if you get scared or if you have a problem with something…I want you to talk to me about it. I want to work through it with you…if and when you need me." Brock squeezed her hands gently, staring into her eyes as he waited for a reaction or response.

Reba took a deep breath, holding back her tears. She pulled her hands away from him, nodding her head at his words. She cupped his cheek with one of her hands, using the other to cover her mouth. "Thank you, Brock. I'll try to keep that in mind." Brock smiled sweetly at her as she pulled her hand away.

"That's all I'm asking for." They sat in silence for a minute before Reba snapped out of their trance. She stood up immediately, taking a few steps away from him and wiping her cheeks. Brock stood up as well, but stayed next to his chair.

"Uh…" Reba swallowed to clear her throat, and moved to pick up his boots from the middle of the kitchen floor. "You should get out of those wet clothes before you get sick. I'll wash them in the morning. Um, I guess, for now just leave them in the bathtub." Brock nodded his head as he followed her out of the room.

"The storm is crazy tonight. I'm glad we made it here before it starting pouring." Brock walked down the hallway, not surprised when Reba told him to quit dripping on the floor. He chuckled to himself, glad to see a little bit more of her old spunk returning. Maybe this cabin would have the exact medicine she needed?

Once Brock had changed clothes and started a fire, he and Reba settled onto the love seat in front of the fire place with half a grilled cheese each. "Thanks for splitting this with me. I wasn't really that hungry after dinner at the restaurant." Reba took a small bite as she watched Brock search for a blanket that didn't have a storage smell to it.

"No problem." Brock walked back to the couch, wrapping half the blanket around Reba before sitting next to her and wrapping the other half around him. "This is the only one that didn't smell too awful." Reba nodded her head, realizing they had a full day of cleaning tomorrow. "Are you warm enough?" Reba smiled at his concern, nodding her head before scooting a little closer to him. She ate the last bite of her sandwich, keeping her eyes away from his.

"Do you really think this will work, Brock? I mean, it's been a while since that afternoon and I'm still nowhere close to where I need to be." Reba kept her eyes on the flames from the fire, too nervous to look at Brock. She heard him sigh, and bit her bottom lip. Brock wrapped his arm around Reba, leaning his head on hers when she rested it against his shoulder.

"Yeah, I think it'll work, and you're not giving yourself enough credit, Reba. You're closer than you think." He paused for a second, the fire taking him captive for a moment. "You've let Cheyenne and Van move back into their house. That's a step…a pretty big step if you ask me." Reba sighed, interrupting him.

"I didn't want to though." Reba whispered, folding her legs underneath her as she wrapped her arm around Brock's waist. He nodded his head, his thumb rubbing a small comforting line on her upper arm.

"I know, but you let them go anyways." He paused, letting his meaning soak in for a bit. He felt Reba sigh, and knew she wanted more examples. She needed more convincing. He took a deep breath, stretching his legs out and resting them on the coffee table in front of them. "Let's see, you've left the house, continued to go to work and grocery shop, and went back to your house. Those are some pretty big deals if you were to ask me." Reba scrunched her mouth to the side, snuggling closer to Brock for comfort.

She stayed silent, afraid arguing with him would only lead to her winning, and she really needed him to be right this time. "I hope you're right, Brock. It'll be hard living like this." Brock bit his lip, staying quiet and letting her words haunt them before kissing the top of her head.

"We'll make it work if I'm wrong…but I know I'm right." Reba smiled slightly, concentrating on the flames. Brock let the subject drop, feeling her body relax against his. It wouldn't be too much longer before she either fell asleep or headed to bed.

"You promise?" Reba whispered softly, tightly closing her eyes as she awaited his answer. She bit her bottom lip and held back the tears when Brock said he promised and would keep this promise no matter what happened. A minute passed before Brock felt a slight trembling coming from the body next to him, and looked down at the redhead.

"Reba, are you cold?" Reba took a deep breath, mentally cursing when her breath shook from the tears falling from her eyes. Brock scooted away from her, gently turning her face so he could look at her. "Oh, Honey, what's wrong? Did I do something?" Reba shook her head, trying to control her outpour. She raised her shaking hand, beginning to wipe away the tear tracks on her cheeks. Brock gently rubbed his thumb over her cheeks, helping her quietly.

"I'm just…tired." She took a deep breath, smiling sadly at him. Brock nodded his head, staring into her eyes as he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. Reba let out a breath, glancing down to her hands which rested in her lap. "You really aren't going to leave me again, are you?"

"No." Brock shook his head, adding emphasis to his answer. Reba gave him a half smile, looking to the side for a moment before returning her eyes to his. "Even when I'm better? When we move back to our houses, and move on from this…when we get back to our old lives…before Jeremy came into the picture?" Brock took a deep breath, reaching for her hands. Reba swallowed the lump in her throat, finally letting it sink in that Brock had no plans of leaving her any time soon.

"Well, we're still good friends, aren't we?" Reba nodded her head. "Then I say…you ain't rid of me yet, Red, and you won't be for a very, very long time…even then I'm positive one of us is gonna haunt the other one." Reba chuckled softly, nodding her head in agreement. He always had known what to say to make her feel better, and Reba leaned in to give him a hug.

"Thanks, Brock. This was just what I needed." Brock returned the hug, closing his eyes in relief. He had been nervous that she wouldn't believe him. He felt her pull away, and watched intently as she stood to her feet. "Uh, I think…I'm gonna head to bed. We have a big day of cleaning tomorrow. Don't stay up too late, okay?" Brock nodded his head, wishing her a good night and watching as she walked out of the living room and down the hall to her room.


	15. Chapter 14

Reba walked into her bedroom, stopping in the doorway as she glanced about the room. She sighed when memories of her and Brock played out in the room. Some were good and some were bad, but she couldn't help but cherish each and every one of them. She shook her head, trying to ignore the ghosts dancing around the bedroom, and entered the room, shutting the door behind her. She took her robe off, tossing it to the rocking chair in the corner of the room. She climbed onto her bed, pulling the blankets tightly around her body.

Reba closed her eyes, beginning to count sheep in hopes of falling asleep soon, but after a few minutes she began tossing and turning with restlessness. She ran her hands over her face, frustrated with the thoughts bouncing around inside her head. She rolled her eyes when the storm started up again, sending loud booms of thunder and bright flashes of lightening through the room. Rolling over to her left side, she stared at the blinds hiding the window. Thoughts of Jeremy returning, waiting outside in the storm, forced her heartbeat to increase, but she was determined not to fall victim to them once again. Instead she sat up, turning on the lamp next to her bed, and focused on the memories of her and Brock playing out in front of her.

She concentrated on one specific memory of her and Brock dancing quietly together late one night after a long day of taking Cheyenne and Kyra on a hike through the woods. It had been the first time that they'd had a moment to themselves since Kyra had been born, and Reba smiled as she remembered how wonderful and simple that moment had been. Reba took a deep breath, the memory fading away and the loud scratching of small tree limbs against the window registering in her mind. She closed her eyes, counting to ten before opening them. She jumped slightly, and cursed when she realized nothing had been there to scare her. She sighed, lying back down and pulling the blankets completely over her head. She took a deep breath, repeating over and over that she had nothing to be afraid of, but it did little to calm her nerves.

She opened her eyes when she heard Brock's laughter come from the living room, and she smiled at the sound. He must have been watching a late night show, waiting to go to bed until he was certain she would be fine on her own. Reba tossed the blankets off of her as she climbed out of bed. She headed down the hallway, reminding herself that Brock didn't expect her to be so strong so soon. Once she made it to the end of the hallway, she peeked around the corner to watch Brock. He was stretched out on the couch, chuckling at the television. She smiled at the sight, and backed away slowly and quietly. He was having a good time, and she really didn't want to disturb that. Besides, he did expect her to work on getting better, and how would she ever do that if she continued to rely on him to chase away her every fear.

Reba darted quietly back into her room, climbing into bed with a slight tremble. She had to make it through at least one night just to prove to herself that it could be done. She took a deep breath and counted the number of times Brock laughed before he finally shut off the television and tip-toed down the hallway to his own room for the night, checking on her as he did. Reba sighed, rolling over onto her back. She could already tell that she was in for one very long, sleepless night.

The next morning, Reba walked into the kitchen, finding it empty. She sighed, realizing that Brock had to still be asleep. She rubbed a hand over her face and through her hair, mad that the morning had taken so long to arrive. She moved to the coffee pot, starting the first brew of the day. Reba sat down at the kitchen table, tapping her fingers as she stared at the wall. Her thoughts drifted over the last year or so of her life, and she realized that it had come down to sleepless nights and extremely long, exhausting days.

The coffee machine began beeping, bringing her out of her thoughts. She stood up, sighing as she poured herself a cup of coffee. She walked out of the kitchen, moving to the back porch. She closed her eyes briefly as fresh air wrapped around her. She took a sip of her coffee, opening her eyes to stare at the woods around the cabin. She studied the area carefully, noting clear paths and good hiding places. Her eyes stopped on a wide, clear path made of stone layered into giant steps. It led up the hill to a secret, hidden place.

Reba smiled when she remembered where exactly the stone path led to, and she quickly moved to the steps of the porch, rushing down them and running across the grass. She planted her bare feet on the cool stone, looking over her shoulder for only a second before slowly disappearing into the woods. Her breath caught in her throat when she finally made it to the end of the path and she stopped dead in her tracks as tears blurred her vision.

Anna looked at her watch as she stood on the dock, sighing when she noticed it was close to six in the morning. The man had called her back around four, asking her to meet him at the dock by six. She glanced around her, noticing a few fishermen climbing onto their boats. She took a deep breath, hoping she wasn't being fooled. She smiled to an old man as he stopped next to her. He leaned his body weight onto the railing as he looked out to sea. She let out another deep breath as she glanced around the boats and dock again. She jumped slightly when the old man cleared his throat and started talking to her. "You Anna Shelton?" He asked, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it. Anna nodded her head, turning around to face him. "All right then, let's get going. Leroy's expecting us by seven." The old man pushed away from the rail, and started walking down the dock.

Anna took a deep breath, glancing over her shoulder before darting after him. "I'm sorry, but where are we going?" The old man sighed as he stopped in front of a boat. He held his hand out for her, helping her climb into the boat before climbing in his self.

"You wanted to talk to Leroy. Well, that's what we're doing." Anna sat down and took the life jacket he was offering her. "I called him, told him you were looking for him, and he said to bring you on out to the boat. He needed some supplies anyways." Anna nodded her head, still uncertain of what was happening, but decided to stay silent for now. As long as she got back in time to pick Kyle up from the airport, she was fine.

Brock stepped into the kitchen, running a hand over his face and through his hair. He hadn't slept at all the night before, and he was hoping that hadn't been the same case for Reba. He moved to the coffee pot, finding a fresh brew awaiting him. He took a deep breath filling a cup and heading to the back porch in search of Reba. He stopped on the back porch, looking around the woods. When he saw her coffee cup sitting on the porch rail, he felt his heart rate increase, and he called out loudly for Reba. When he didn't get a response he spun around, running inside and calling out for her again.

With silence still as his answer, Brock darted back outside. He ran down the porch steps, where he spotted the stone path that he, Ralph, and Richard had worked hard on for their wives. He took off across the grass, ignoring the cold stone on his bare feet as he reached his full speed. She had to be up there. If she wasn't then he wouldn't be able to handle the thoughts and feelings he knew would be within him.

Anna was startled when the old man's voice drifted over the sound of the ocean and interrupted the silence they had fallen into when they'd left the dock. "I don't normally like to get involved in Leroy's business, but I recognize your last name. Jeremy's your brother, isn't he?" Anna nodded her head, a sudden nervous fear inching up her spine. She took a deep breath, second guessing her decision to climb onto a boat with a complete stranger. "Leroy doesn't care much for Jeremy anymore, thinks he killed his sister." Anna nodded her head once again, keeping her eyes locked on the older man's body.

"That's what I wanted to discuss with Leroy. It might help with a situation Jeremy's involved with now." The old man took a deep breath, his eyes darting around the water. "I'm sorry, but who are you? How do you know Leroy?" Anna knew she was pushing her limits, but she had to know. She couldn't help but want to solve the puzzle.

"Uh, I'm his father, Carl." Anna was shocked, and felt her heart skip a beat at the realization that her brother had more than likely killed his daughter. "Well, we're here." Carl shut down the boat, moving away from the wheel. He sat across from Anna, keeping his eyes away from hers.

"I'm so sorry, Mr. Hensley." Carl waved her off, no longer in the mood to talk. He cleared his throat, opening the ice chest at his feet and pulling out a drink. Anna turned her eyes to the water, her attention landing on a boat heading in their direction. "Is that Leroy?" Anna motioned with her head, her stomach doing flips when Carl nodded his head.

Within a few minutes, Leroy was joining them on Carl's boat. "Anna?" She nodded her head, standing up. A small smile stretched across his face as he looked her over. "You've really grown up. The last time I saw you…" He trailed off, the smile dropping from his face. "Anyways, you wanted to talk to me?" Anna nodded her head, taking a deep breath as she tried to find a way to phrase her questions.

"I'm not really sure how to go about this, Leroy, but, uh, I think Jeremy's done something…wrong." Anna took a deep breath, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "I was thinking about him last night, and I remembered how you blamed him for your sister's…" She trailed off when Leroy's face tensed. She sighed, noticing how much he and his father were still affected by her death. "You said he…uh…"

Leroy nodded his head, sitting down across from her. They both sat in silence while Carl grabbed a box of supplies and left his boat for Leroy's. "He raped her and then tormented her for months. Your brother's always been different, Anna. I just didn't know how different until my sister told me what he'd done to her." Anna stayed silent, the slight rocking of the boat adding to the uneasiness in her stomach. "I don't really like to talk about it. My dad and I like to remember her happy, but if you think he's up to something again…I'll help."

Anna nodded her head, hesitating for a minute before continuing their conversation. "I think he's done it again…might even still be doing it." She stopped when she saw Leroy look away, his jaw tightly clenched together. Anna swallowed the lump in her throat before telling him everything she knew about Reba and her brother. Leroy listened intently, making a few under the breath comments on occasion.

Reba cautiously stepped towards the gazebo, entering it as she took a deep breath. She ran her hand along the wooden bench, sitting down in the middle of it as tears slipped down her cheeks. The men had built this secret gazebo for their wives to go to for a few hours each day. They had called it their own personal wives' club, and this was where they had talked about all the horrible and wonderful moments of their lives. Reba closed her eyes, picturing her long ago friends sitting next to her. She took a deep breath, stretching out on the bench as she felt built up tears fall from her shaking body.

Brock hesitantly stopped at the top of the hill, trying to catch his breath as his alert eyes scanned the gazebo and the woods surrounding it. He called out for Reba, his breath hitching in the middle. He closed his eyes when he didn't receive an answer, and he fell to his knees, holding back tears.

Reba sat up slowly, looking over the back of the bench. She frowned when she saw Brock on his knees, and softly called out to him, watching as his head shot upwards. He jumped to his feet, running to her side and pulling her to her feet. He cupped her cheeks in his hands, a smile spreading across his lips. His eyes locked with hers as they tried to blink back their tears. "You're okay? I haven't lost you." Reba could barely make out what Brock was saying, but she nodded her head, her hands wrapped around his lower arms. Brock took a deep breath, gently pulling her closer to him. He kissed the top her forehead, his lips lingering for a moment. He lowered his head, their foreheads barely touching. "I didn't lose you." His whispered breath brushed across her skin and lips, forcing her to close her eyes as his words slowly sank in.

Reba swallowed the lump in her throat, quiet tears slipping from her eyes. "I'm sorry. I should have told you." Brock looked up, his eyes catching hers. The corner of his mouth curled slightly upwards as his tears still occasionally slipped from his eyes. He gently wiped her cheeks with his thumbs before pulling her into a warm, tight hug.

"It doesn't matter anymore. You're okay. That's all I care about right now." Reba closed her eyes, wrapping her arms tightly around Brock as they both silently cried a little more. Brock was the first to pull away, still trembling with fear. As his eyes danced around her slightly dampen, redden face, he tucked strands of her soft hair behind her ears. Reba watched as he took a in a shaky breath, noticing that he still wasn't satisfied that she was all right. She covered his hands, which cupped her cheeks, with her own and softly called out his name to gain his full attention.

"I'm fine. I promise." She gave him a small smile, using her thumbs to rub the back of his hands for a second before pulling his hands away from her face. "I wanted to see this place again." Reba glanced around the gazebo, her smile growing slightly before she looked back to Brock. "I got excited, and didn't think about leaving you a note. I'm sorry." She swallowed, and watched as Brock did the same. He gave her a small smile, a tiny bit of uncertainty remaining. Reba gently wiped at his cheeks, erasing the tear tracks. "I am safe." Brock and Reba both took a sharp intake of breath at her sentence, realizing in separate ways that she was indeed safe.

Reba smiled as Brock pulled her into another hug, and tried to keep her thoughts in the back of her mind. She had said she was safe because she felt it, but did she want to believe it so easily? Did she want to let her guard down so soon? Reba held her breath as Brock pulled away from her, his eyes looking at the ground as he released a shaky breath. His eyebrows scrunched together, and Reba suddenly became nervous at the reprimanding expression on his face.

"Why are you barefooted? It's cold and wet out here." Reba rolled her eyes, and let out the breath she was holding. "You might be fine now, but you'll get sick if we don't get you back inside. Come on, I'll make us breakfast and start a fire." Brock wrapped his hand around hers, starting to lead the way back to the cabin. Reba kept her eyes down as she started to walk, and scoffed when she noticed he didn't have any shoes on either. "Oh, no, don't start with me, Missy. We both know I handle the cold better than you." Reba rolled her eyes, playfully smacking his back before moving to his side as they walked. Emotions and thoughts still gripped at their minds and hearts, but for now, they were both content to ignore them as they ate breakfast and enjoyed each other's company. Maybe afterwards they would have the strength to tackle what was currently haunting them?

Jeremy glanced around his room as he stood in the doorway. Kyle hadn't arrived home for lunch, and the break in habit aroused Jeremy's suspicions. He hadn't spoken to Anna in two days either. He slowly entered his room, opening his dressers. His clothes had been touched, and Jeremy felt his anger rising slightly. He turned to stare at his laptop, and his arms dropped to his side when he noticed the chair had been turned away from the desk. He made it a point every time he stood up to turn the chair towards the desk. Jeremy pulled his cell phone out of his pocket to call his brother-in-law.

His eyebrows rose when he noticed a missed call. He pressed the send button, putting his phone to his ear as he waited for his phone to connect to his voicemail. "Hey, Jeremy, it's Kyle. I, uh, planned a last minute surprise for Anna. I'm boarding a plane to Houston right now. Thought I'd, uh, check out the house she bought and maybe even visit my parents. You're more than welcome to stay at the house for as long as you want. Our home is your home. Talk to you later. Bye." Jeremy deleted the message before hanging up his phone, and moving to his computer. He sat down, turning it on and signing into his laptop.

Anna took a deep breath as she stared at the approaching dock. Her conversation with Leroy had taken a lot out of her, and she couldn't imagine what it had been like for him. She glanced at his father, her heart breaking at the sadness on his face. They hadn't said a word since they'd started back, and a part of her was glad. She sighed as Carl eased the boat into its proper place, and once he told her it was safe, she darted off the boat. "Thank you, Mr. Hensley. I know that couldn't have been easy for you or Leroy, but it's going to help another woman out greatly." Carl nodded his head, turning his back to her and heading down the dock to another boat.

Kyle took a deep breath as he searched the airport for his wife. He hadn't felt a moment of relief or comfort since he'd found those pictures on Jeremy's computer. He smiled when he saw Anna walking towards him, and dropped his suitcases at his side as he wrapped his arms tightly around her. "I was so worried about you." Anna kissed her husband, taking a step back and reaching for one of his suitcases. "So, what'd you tell Jeremy about leaving?"

Kyle took a deep breath, following her back to her car. "Well, I left him a message saying I had planned a last minute surprise for you, but Anna, I don't know if that's going to work. If we're going to help this woman, if we're going to put Jeremy where he belongs then we have got to do it fast. Your brother isn't a very patience man nor is he stupid." Anna frowned as she nodded her head, and for the rest of the walk to the car she contemplated telling him about her visit with Leroy.

After making a stop at the hotel, Anna and Kyle pulled into the police parking lot. "Are you ready?" Kyle's voice broke through Anna's thoughts, sending her heart racing. She nodded her head, a sadness occupying her body. From the moment she began suspecting Jeremy she hadn't had any time to wrap her mind around the information she was finding out by the second. She took a deep breath, grinning slightly when Kyle wrapped his hand around hers. "We can take a minute if you need it. I know this is hard for you." Anna looked at him with tears filling her eyes. He pulled her closer to him, holding her tightly as she cried for her father and her brother.


	16. Chapter 15

The next night Reba walked into her bedroom after taking a long, hot shower. She sighed as she closed the door behind her and reached for the pajamas on her dresser. About the time her towel hit the floor, there was a knock on the door. Reba jumped, slamming her body against the door. She closed her eyes, holding her breath as she listened to Brock's voice. "Hey, Reba, I'm lighting a fire if you wanna sit in the living room for a while." She took a deep breath, shaking her head as she quickly slipped on her clothes.

"Yeah, that's fine. I'll be out in a minute." She sat down on her bed, her fingers tightly wrapped around her robe as she listened to his footsteps drift away from her door. She fell backwards onto the bed, her heart still racing. She felt tears coming to her eyes, and tried to blink them away, settling with keeping them at bay instead. She closed her eyes as her hands rubbed her temples. The only thing that had flashed through her mind was Jeremy and what he would have done had he been the one on the other side of the door. She opened her eyes, sitting up slowly. There had to be a way to get him out of her head.

Reba stared into the vanity mirror in front of her, and shook her head at the sight before her. All the kinks and stress her shower that had washed away was suddenly back with a vengeance. She fell to her side, curling into a ball. She didn't know if she wanted to leave her room anymore. She didn't know if fighting was worth it anymore. She didn't know anything, and it scared her to be so lost and out of control. She took a deep breath, closing her eyes tightly before opening them. She smiled when she saw another memory playing out in front of her. Ten year-old Cheyenne and five year-old Kyra stood in the door, worried expressions across their faces. Brock stood behind them, explaining that she wasn't feeling well, and that she'd have to sit out on today's hike.

Reba let out the breath she was holding, focusing harder on the memory. She watched as her little girls slowly moved closer to her, and smiled when their tiny voices echoed throughout the room. She closed her eyes again when she saw Brock smiling at her from the door way, and when she opened her eyes she remembered why she had to keep fighting. Her children needed her to be stronger than she had ever been before. They needed her to get better. Reba sat up, ignoring the image in the mirror as she walked towards the door. She hesitated before opening it slowly.

Brock sat on the couch, staring at the fire and trying to decide if it needed more wood. When he heard a floor board creak he turned his attention to the hallway. "Oh, hey, there you are. How was your shower?" Reba smiled at him telling him it was fine before moving towards the couch. Brock frowned, seeing the emotions flashing through her eyes. "What's wrong? Are you okay?"

"Oh, yeah, I'm just tired." Brock stared at her, waiting for the truth. Reba sighed, recognizing the expression on his face. She wrapped her arms around her body, looking away from him for a minute. "I was thinking about Jeremy…again." Reba kept her eyes away from Brock, not wanting to see his disappointment. Brock waited, continuing to watch her.

"What about him?" Reba glanced at Brock, shocked that he had responded so calmly. She stuttered for a moment before taking a deep breath. Brock waited patiently, letting her have the time she needed.

"I don't know, Brock." She let out a frustrated breath, running a hand through her wet hair. "I don't think I'm strong enough to beat this…to beat him." Reba sighed, tears brimming her eyes. Brock patted the couch next to him, and waited for Reba to join him before wrapping his arms around her.

"You're strong enough, Reba. Trust me, you are." Reba sighed, rolling her eyes as she wrapped her arms around him. Brock licked his lips, taking a brief moment to gather his thoughts. There had to be a way to help her understand how strong she was and how much she had accomplished. He pulled away from Reba, catching her eyes with his before she had the chance to look away. "May I tell you why I think you're strong enough?" Maybe saying it over and over would pound it into her self-conscious, helping her to see what everyone else saw every day?

Reba took a deep breath and nodded her head, praying that whatever he would say would chase away the uneasiness in her stomach and the anxiety in her head. Brock felt the need to hesitate, but fought past it as he stared into Reba's eyes, gaining her undivided attention instantly. "Look at everything you have overcome already. A cheating husband," He paused, a slight hitch in his voice from his own regret. "A divorce, his new wife always around," Another hitch demanded that Brock swallow the slight lump forming in his throat. He chased away the regrets floating in his mind, and put his full attention on the redhead before him. "Your daughter having a baby at seventeen, raising three…five if you count Van and Elizabeth, children practically on your own. If you can make it through all of those things then you can make it through anything. You're strong enough, Reba."

Reba sighed, her face falling slightly. Brock's eyes darted around her face as he prayed she wasn't going to fight him on this one. Her stubbornness couldn't get in the way this time, but if it did, he had to be alert and quick on the trigger of shooting away her doubts. "I didn't do those things on my own. I had you, Brock."

"And you still have me. I haven't gone anywhere." Brock reached out for her hand, and squeezed it gently. Reba gave him a small smile, acknowledging the comfort he was sending her way. She took a deep breath, still unsure if she believed as much as he did in how strong she was. Jeremy and what came with him was a lot to tackle, and she was so tiny and weak. Reba sighed, and from the way Brock squeezed her hand again she knew he could read her thoughts. "You're strong enough, Reba." Reba pulled her hand away, and brought her knees to her chin.

"I don't know, Brock. I want to believe you and to feel strong and attack this thing with confidence…but…it's so hard." Reba sighed, tears filling her eyes once again. Brock placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, causing her to turn her head in his direction.

"How about the things you did without me?" Reba raised an eyebrow, swallowing the lump in her throat. Brock nodded his head, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly. "Yeah, like the fact that you're still fighting? You haven't given up and I know you aren't going to either. I don't think you know how to give up." Brock paused, noting the slight lift of the corners of her mouth. He was getting somewhere, and it encouraged him to continue with vigor. "You went to the police several times and to therapy."

Reba took a deep breath, and when she looked away, Brock felt his heart drop. Reba shook her head, staring at her toes and taking the hesitation from Brock to speak. "Yeah, and none of it worked. The police can't do anything and let's face it…me going to therapy is a big ol' joke. I should just quit going. It's not working." Brock sighed, feeling panic rise within him. He calmed his heartbeat as he reached for her hand, once again getting her full attention.

"It hasn't worked, yet, but it will. I know it will. These things…they just take time, Sweetheart. They just take time." Reba sighed, shaking her head, but she remained silent, his words slowly making their way past her stubborn wall. Brock took a deep breath, thinking quickly. "Besides all that…I've seen improvement. You let Cheyenne and Van move back into their house." He paused for a second when he saw her flinch. He knew how hard it was for her to let them go. "You let Jake stay the night at a friend's house, and you haven't had to make sure every door and every window are locked before going to bed either. Also, we've been here for a while now and you haven't stressed about not being able to talk with the kids once. I'd say that something to celebrate."

Reba took a deep breath, looking away from Brock. She couldn't help but feel guilty when he mentioned talking with the kids. She had texted Barbra Jean on the hour every hour since they'd arrived. "Oh, what about joking at the store when you bought that candy?" Reba snapped her head in his direction, her face full of remembrance.

"My candy!" She jumped to her feet, darting out of the living room and into the kitchen. Brock smiled, realizing he should have mention the candy minutes ago. It would have saved them a lot of stress and panic. His smile soon turned into a light chuckle when she started yelling from the kitchen. "Where'd you hide the candy!"

"You can have one a day, Reba." Brock took a deep breath, teasing her as he listened to the cabinets open and slam shut. He turned his stare onto the fire, his mind suddenly giving into the regrets he had chased away moments ago as the flames took him captive.

"I'm not a child, you butt! Now, give me my candy. AH-HA!" There was silence in the kitchen, and Brock glanced over his shoulder as he waited for Reba to continue yelling again. "I found them." She said as she appeared in the living room. "Want one?" She asked with a mouth full of chocolate. Brock shook his head, his silence worrying Reba. She sat next to him, studying his tense face. "Hey, what's wrong?" Brock licked his lips, shaking his head. "Oh, whatever. Brock Hart, you tell me what's wrong right now."

Brock sighed, scooting closer to the edge of the couch. "It's nothing, Reba. I was just thinking." Reba sighed, her candy suddenly being forgotten.

"Don't do this to me, Brock." She paused, her lips closing tightly together. "I hate when you shut me out like this. It makes me feel so alone and scared and…" She trailed off, shaking her head as she stood up to leave the room. Brock cleared his throat, calling out her name and apologizing. Reba shrugged her shoulders, her eyes glaring into his. "Yeah, well, sometimes sorry doesn't work. I need more than 'sorry'." She turned around again, taking a few steps away from him.

"I did this to you a lot, didn't I?" Reba stopped, but kept her back to him. She looked to the floor, playing with her fingers. "You say it scared you….and what?" Reba closed her eyes, not wanting to answer him. Brock stood up in her silence, his eyes burning fiercely into her back. "Did I ever make you feel unsafe?" Reba took in a sharp intake of breath, slowly turning around to face him. Brock's heart broke at the confirmation on her face.

Reba sighed, her arms crossing over her chest. "Not so much in an 'I'm gonna get hurt' way but more in an 'I could lose everything' sort of way. It was more emotional and mental than physical." Reba was quiet, but she had wanted to make it clear. She had never felt like Brock would hurt her or not fight for her, but she had felt him drifting away from her little by little. Brock took a deep breath, tears slipping from his eyes.

"I'm so sorry, Reba. I wouldn't have let anything ever happen to you, and I shouldn't have let you feel alone or scared. That's not what I was there for…It's not what I'm here for either." Brock paused, swallowing the lump in his throat. He stepped closer to Reba, taking a deep breath. "I'm supposed to be here to…to," Brock could see the tears forming in her eyes, and knew if she started crying he would lose it completely. He trailed off, letting his thought slowly die away, but when Reba stepped closer to him, he knew she wasn't going to let him stop now.

"What were you going to say, Brock? Here to…keep me safe, to protect me?" Brock sighed, closing his eyes as she read his mind so easily. He nodded his head, swallowing the lump in his throat. Reba followed his lead, licking her lips as she felt another lump begin forming in her throat.

"Yeah, but I didn't do that. I let you down… so many times." Brock shook his head, his head pounding from the growing regret and heartache. He fell to the couch, running a hand over his face as he stared into the fire. Reba sat next to him, her body tense and trembling. She put a comforting hand on his back, silently encouraging him to continue. Brock sighed, but kept his eyes away from her. "After the divorce I promised to never let anything or anyone hurt you again…but I failed…" Reba furrowed her eyebrows, shaking her head slightly.

"You never promised me that." Brock glanced at her, clearing his throat and relaxing a bit.

"Well, not to you, not out loud, but I did promise it." Reba shook her head, scooting closer to him and pulling him against her body. Brock crumbled against her, and allowed her to do the same once their backs hit the couch cushions.

"How did you plan on keeping such a promise, Brock? We were divorced. We weren't supposed to be friends, ya know." Brock smiled, letting the last of his tension and built-up remorse slip away. He glanced at her, smiling mischievously.

"Uh, Barbra Jean…I figured with the way she talked about you and how she kept coming around the house that I'd have a way to stay close to you…as a friend. I wouldn't lose you completely and therefore I'd get to keep my promise. Why else do you think I was so _jealous_ of all those guys?" Reba scoffed, pushing him away from her and grabbing the bag of candy from in between them.

"Excuse me…there weren't that many guys, and how dare you force Barbra Jean into my life even more than you did with the affair." Reba smiled slightly, and Brock shrugged his shoulders.

"Well, life isn't always fair." Reba nodded her head, narrowing her eyes.

"Right…which is exactly why you aren't getting any candy!" Reba darted from the couch, running from the room when Brock began chasing her. An hour later, they were both standing at the end of the hallway, catching their breath.

"I can't believe you hit me with the bag of candy." Reba chuckled, shrugging her shoulders and saying life wasn't fair. Brock smiled as he shook his head. "Well, I think I better put the fire out and head to bed. You made breakfast the last two mornings. I should make it tomorrow. You can sleep in if you want." Reba nodded her head, but secretly she hated the idea. She hadn't been able to sleep at all the last few nights, and having to lie in bed from an extra hour or two would drive her insane.

"Okay, well, goodnight then." Brock told her goodnight before awkwardly walking back into the living room. Reba watched him for a minute before shrugging off the icky feeling suffocating her. They'd always hugged goodnight before, even when they were divorced and Brock was married to Barbra Jean. It had been a habit neither one had pushed to end. She sighed, praying he was only trying to respect her boundaries and not anything that would hurt her later.

Reba took a deep breath as she entered her bedroom, and tossed the bag of candy onto her dresser. She pulled back her comforter, sitting down on the cold sheets. She wasn't looking forward to not getting any sleep, and wished she knew why she wasn't able to, especially after two nights of no sleep what so ever.

Brock double checked the fireplace, making sure everything was safe before easing down the hallway. He sighed as he placed his ear against Reba's closed door. When he didn't hear any noise, he entered his room down the hall. Climbing into bed, he prayed he'd be able to fall asleep tonight. He'd tossed and turned every night, the feeling of needing something keeping him from getting comfortable. The king sized bed only added to his discomfort, and as he pulled the comforter over his shoulders, he knew he wouldn't be getting any sleep. He was suddenly wide awake and alert to every sound in the house and outside in the woods.

Reba took a deep breath, her body stretched out like a star. She stared at the ceiling; contemplating whether two mini candy bars could give her enough of a sugar rush to keep her up or not. When a couple hours drifted by, she realized the candy hadn't been the reason she was still fighting sleep. She sat up, a thought suddenly entering her mind. Easing to her bedroom door, she silently slipped into the hallway.

Brock rolled over, checking the time on his alarm clock. He shook his head, and ran his hands over his face. Only four more hours until the earliest he could start on breakfast. He took a deep breath, closing his eyes and counting sheep for the hundredth time that night. His attention perked when he heard a floorboard creak and then his bedroom door squeaking open as it swung towards the wall. He opened his eyes slowly when he heard Reba whisper his name. His eyes followed her body from her feet to her eyes, and he was mesmerized with the way the darkness outline her pale skin and red hair.

"Are you awake?" Her voice was quieter than the first time, and it took until she was turning away for him to realize that he hadn't answered her. He softly said yes, and when she glanced over her shoulder at him, he asked her what she needed. Reba took a deep breath, and he could tell how nervous she was as she hesitantly turned back around to face him. "Do you mind if I sleep with you tonight? I haven't been able to sleep at all, and I think it's from getting used to sharing a bed again. If you'd rather not that's fine…I just thought I'd ask…you know…to see if maybe that's why I'm not sleeping…" Brock smiled as he listened to her ramble on for a little longer before softly calling out her name.

"It's okay. I haven't been able to sleep either." He scooted over, lifting the blankets and waited patiently for her to climb in next to him. He moved over a little more, giving her more room. Reba sighed, rolling over to face him. Brock stared at her, waiting for her to fall asleep before he attempted to do so himself.

"This isn't gonna work." Brock frowned, hoping she wasn't going to get out of bed. He could feel his eyelids begging to close. "I didn't leave one big, empty bed to climb into an even bigger one. Do you mind sleeping closer?" Brock was shocked; scared that he could hurt her if he ended up too close. He nodded his head, inching closer to her. Reba sighed, rolling over and moving closer to Brock until her back was lightly pressed against his chest. "Perfect." She whispered as her eyelids closed and her body finally fell victim to sleep. Brock smiled, wrapping an arm around her waist. Reba placed her arm over his, their fingers entangling together out of habit. "Thank you." Brock closed his eyes and waited until her body fully relaxed before falling asleep.


	17. Chapter 16

A/N: FINALLY, a new chapter. :) Sorry about the wait, hope you'll enjoy the new addition. Thanks for reading. :)

Reba awoke slowly to the scent of fresh coffee and a hot breakfast. She smiled as her body twitched with energy. She climbed out of bed, slipping quietly down the hallway. She stared at Brock as he dug through an old closet, cursing when a box fell on his head. She chuckled, gaining his attention. "Oh, hey, you finally decide to get up?" Reba nodded her head, walking to his side.

"What are you doing?" Brock shrugged his shoulders, holding up a few items.

"I was seeing what all we've left here over the years. I found that pink rabbit Cheyenne loved so much." Reba scoffed, rolling her eyes. Cheyenne had thrown a fit about that rabbit every night for several months. "Wish I'd have thought to check here. Would have saved us a lot of stress." Reba chuckled nodding her head.

"Yeah, well, if I remember correctly, I asked you to check here when you and Ralph came back for a fishing trip." Brock thought for a moment, feigning ignorance. "Uh-huh, I know you remember." Reba took a deep breath as she left him to his searching as she ventured into the kitchen. "Where's the food?" Brock shook his head as he grabbed a box before following her into the kitchen. He set the box on the counter top.

"On the table. I figured the smell of bacon would wake you up." Reba smirked at him, sitting down at the table. "Looks like I was right." He passed her a cup of coffee before returning to the box. "And before you ask, I've already ate." She narrowed her eyes at him, biting into a piece of bacon. At her silence, Brock turned around to check on her. "What?"

"If you've already ate, wouldn't that mean you were wrong?" He shrugged his shoulders, turning away from her.

"All right, so it didn't work the first time, but I've forgotten how deep of a sleeper you are when you haven't slept in a few days. So, I left the bacon pan and a cup of coffee on the dresser in the bedroom." Reba chuckled, shaking her head at him. "That and I was bored so if the bacon wouldn't have woken you up…" He glanced at her, smirking as he chuckled in the back of his throat.

"You've tried flipping the mattress before, Brock. It didn't turn out well for you if you remember correctly." Brock cringed, shuddering away the memory. "Anyways, what are we gonna do today? I'm so bored." Reba finished her coffee as she stood up for a second cup.

"I don't know. There isn't a lot to do this time of year. If it was warmer we could have gone swimming." Reba shook her head, glad it was cold. "Maybe later we could go for a hike and get lost on the trails like we used to do." Reba rolled her eyes, smacking his shoulder.

"That was never fun, Brock. I always managed to sprain my ankle or get poison ivy." Brock smirked, hiding it from Reba. "Now, that I think about it…you're a perverted butt!" Brock burst out in laughter, turning around with a small box in his hands.

"It took ya long enough to figure it out. I was amazed every time you agreed to go. At one point, I even thought you knew and were playing along with my evil plan." Reba smirked behind her coffee cup, gaining his attention. "Wait a minute…." Waiting as he had asked, Reba stared at him innocently as the wheels in his head turned. "Never mind, it doesn't matter." Brock sat across from her at the table, holding the item in his hands up for her to see. "Look what I found. I wonder if they still work?" Brock opened the box as Reba finished her breakfast.

"You are such a child, Brock. What are we gonna do with a pair of old walkie-talkies?" Brock winked at her as he told her not to challenge his perverted mind. Reba rolled her eyes as she carried her plate and cup to the sink.

Anna sat at her desk, clicking her pen over and over. Kyle sat across from her, trying to read his emails. He glanced up, noticing his wife lost in a trance. "You okay, Honey?" Anna jumped at his voice, the pen flying from her hand.

"Don't do that!" She took a deep breath, sitting up straighter. Kyle apologized, still waiting on her answer. She took another breath, tossing the paper she had been reading closer to him. "My father had wanted to wait for his will to be read, and I had completely forgotten about it. He had set up arrangements for Jeremy to run the business here and I was to run the business in France." Kyle nodded his head, already knowing what she was telling him. "You know, until further arrangements could be made. Well, the reading is later this month. I don't know if I can face Jeremy." Kyle sighed, knowing Anna hadn't slept well since she found out about her brother.

"It'll be okay, Anna. We can request for the cops to be there, and I'm sure other people will be at the reading. I mean, your father wouldn't split everything between you and Jeremy, and he definitely wouldn't leave it for you and Jeremy to read by yourselves. He was big into charity, and he valued his lawyer." Anna nodded her head, realizing he was right. Her father had had a big heart, and she was certain that he had arranged for most of his money to go to charity. She was worried about his personal belongings though. The ones that still sat covered in his old house. It would take weeks for her and Jeremy to sort through it all. Anna took a deep breath, wondering if her father knew anything about Jeremy. Surely, if he did, then he wouldn't have left anything for Jeremy.

"Hey, did you read this letter?" Kyle was now standing next to Anna, flipping through the mail on her desk. She glanced at what he was holding, noticing the personal envelope addressed to her sent from her father's lawyer. She shook her head, opening the envelope quickly. Kyle glanced over her shoulder as she read it to herself. It informed her of who all would be at the event and if she had any concerns to contact him.

"Oh, my, gosh. Now I have two things to worry about!" Anna shot to her feet, pacing the room quickly. "How am I supposed to look at these people, Kyle? I know what my brother did!" Anna groaned, rubbing her temples. "I mean, this woman has to think I'm a part of it. That I'm here to keep tabs on her for my brother." Kyle frowned, reading the letter once more.

"How does she know your father?" Anna stopped pacing, staring at her husband with annoyance. He glanced at her, ignoring the frustration on her face.

"What does that have to do with anything?" Kyle took a deep breath, remaining calm as his wife began pacing again. "I'm sure she and Jeremy got together before my dad passed." Anna froze, closing her eyes. "I mean, before Jeremy killed him." Kyle nodded his head, his mind bouncing from one thing to another. It wasn't adding up well enough for his liking.

"Then how did Reba meet Jeremy." Anna opened her eyes, shocked that she didn't know the answer. Jeremy had talked to her about their relationship for months now. How could she not know how they met?

"CAN YOU HEAR ME? OVER." Reba smirked as she shook her head, watching from the porch as Brock darted around the woods like a small boy. She held up a thumb's up, laughing when he stopped and glared at her. "USE THE WALKIE. WHAT IF I COULDN'T SEE YOU? OVER." Reba rolled her eyes, bringing the walkie-talkie to her mouth.

"YOU'RE AN IDIOT."

"GOOD YOU CAN HEAR ME. DON'T FORGET TO SAY OVER. OVER." Reba rolled her eyes, leaving the walkie-talkie on the porch railing and walking inside. Brock screamed her name before saying it over and over through the walkie-talkie. He finally walked back to the cabin, not stopping until he was as close to her as possible. "You can't just humor me with this? What else do we have to do around here?" Reba laughed, moving away from him.

"I thought that we could work on the garden, and get it ready for the summer so the girls and I can plant flowers." Brock sighed, his shoulders dropping. He was glad to hear she planned on coming back, but he hated to work on the garden.

"Really? You want to do work?" Reba smiled as she nodded her head. "Why? Walkie-talkies are so much more fun!" Reba shook her head at his childish behavior. She slipped on her shoes, zipped up her jacket, and placed a hand gently on his upper arm.

"Come on, we'll get dirty." Reba sang as she winked at him before leaving the living room for the storage shed in the front yard. Brock growled in the back of his throat, trying to fight her sneaky manipulation. He stood in the living room for a few minutes, hoping he could get out of helping her. "BROCK!" He jumped to life as he ran outside, finding her frozen in front of the shed. He quickly made his way to her side, out of breath when he stopped next to her.

"What? What is it?" Reba took a deep breath, slowly moving behind him. She pointed to the lower shelf in the far corner of the room. Brock studied the area she was showing him, and jumped slightly when he saw the snake. "All right, go inside. I'll take care of it." Reba nodded her head, but stayed behind him. Brock took a deep breath as he slowly closed the door to the shed. He locked it, taking a few steps backwards. He grabbed Reba's hand as he continued to back away from the shed and checked the yard around them for more snakes. "Let's go into town and call someone. We can buy some garden supplies while we wait." Reba nodded her head and they took off for Brock's truck, laughing and teasing each other.

An hour later they were on their hands and knees yanking weeds out of the garden. "Okay, Reba, this is not my favorite way to get dirty." Brock smiled to his self, but when he didn't receive a response he glanced over his shoulder. Reba was daydreaming as she stared towards the woods. Brock checked the woods, but he didn't see anything. "Are you okay?" Reba snapped out of her daze, staring at Brock for a minute.

"Yeah, I was just thinking about how I felt when I was at the gazebo. It felt freeing to be there." Brock tossed his tool to the dirt before moving closer to her. Reba could see he wanted her to continue, and she took a deep breath. "I wasn't thinking about Jeremy or anything that's happened in the last year. I was thinking about the summers we spent here with Ralph and Doc. How much work you men put into it for us." Reba sighed, her attention lost to the woods again.

Brock smiled, seeing the fear and disgust leave her eyes momentarily. She glanced at him, a watery smile on her lips. He tried not to frown when a tear slipped from her eye. "Maybe it would be good for you to go up there some?" Reba darted her eyes to his at his words. "Plus, it'd let me use the walkie-talkies." Reba rolled her eyes, returning her attention to the weeds in front of her. "I'm sorry." Reba shrugged her shoulders, suddenly not in the mood to play in the dirt.

"I think I'm tired." Brock nodded his head, standing up before helping her to her feet. "And I like the idea of going up there some. Maybe I can do it before lunch?" Brock nodded his head, helping her to dust off what dirt he could.

"Yeah, we can do that, and then when we-"

"No, Brock, I want to go by myself. I- I want to get away from everything, and sometimes when I'm with you…it's hard." Brock held back his emotions, not wanting to push her away with his shock. He nodded his head, looking away shortly.

"Well, what if we compromise. I can walk you half way, and then you can hold onto a walkie-talkie. When you're ready to come back for lunch, we can meet half way again." Reba thought about his offer, and figured it couldn't hurt. She nodded her head, smiling to herself. Maybe staying at the old cabin wasn't such a bad idea after all, and she was glad she had agreed to come with him.

Anna glanced over her shoulder as she followed Kyle to their car. She couldn't shake the feeling that she was being followed. Kyle squeezed her hand, gaining her attention. "Everything is fine. Jeremy sent me an email saying he was enjoying the time to his self, and that he might invite a friend over for the weekend. I told him that was fine." Anna nodded her head, her gut denying his words to comfort her. She climbed into her car, checking the rearview mirror until Kyle made it to the driver side.

Jeremy took a deep breath, his eyes locked on his sister and brother-in-law. He'd already been by Reba's house, and had found it completely empty. He released a half-smile, knowing she was still scared of him. He pulled out of his parking spot, following his sister at a distance. He would find out why Kyle had left so suddenly. Somewhere someone would slip, and he would be here to see it. He would be here to find out where his China doll had disappeared to while he was gone, and then she would be his once again.


End file.
